Looking For A New Connection
by darkstorm5000
Summary: PostAscension. The XMen and Brotherhood face life, both in and out of Bayville, in this brave new world. Featuring a variety of characters with classic couples, new pairings, and a few twists along the way.
1. You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet!

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 1- You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet!

Over a year had passed since the ancient mutant known as En Sabah Nur had made both his presence, and the awesome power that he possessed, known to the world. And in that time, even those who had remained skeptically doubtful about the existence of mutants, in spite of prior evidence pointing towards the contrary, had been left with little choice in the waking aftermath but to fully acknowledge the fact that mutants did indeed walk among them. But, if that weren't disconcerting enough for them, they also had to concede that with these super-powered beings lay the potential to tip the balance of control of the entire planet in either direction, whether it be in favor of humans or for mutants.

This was also an extremely sobering realization for the majority of the world's governments and ruling bodies. And one, which certainly didn't sit particularly well with those individuals who exerted tremendous sway, and wielded exceptional influence amongst those powers-that-be, particularly within the United States' private and public sectors.

Meanwhile the X-Men, the mutant defense force that had been formed by Professor Charles Xavier to promote hopes of a peaceful co-existence between the whole of humanity, had themselves repeatedly risked their all to protect a populace that often feared and hated them for what they were. It was through their efforts, combined with some timely assistance provided by the Brotherhood, which ultimately thwarted the rise of Apocalypse. But, their actions hadn't automatically converted those possessed of a dissenting opinion towards them, and towards mutants as a whole, overnight.

In fact, quite the contrary.

The immediate and knee-jerk response by those self-appointed individuals in power, who had charged themselves with safeguarding humanity from this mutant-menace, was to fall back on a trusted mainstay. A foe, which the X-Men thought they had put to rest permanently, only to later witness this reinstitution of the--

"--**_Sentinels_**!"

"So far I only see one, so let's consider ourselves lucky, for now. I want everybody to get into battlefield formation, and wait for my signal."

These were the words spoken by Alex Summers, the mutant code-named Havok, as he stood atop the roof of a ten-story apartment building in downtown Manhattan on this clear and sunny spring afternoon, dressed in his black and gray uniform with power-balancing gauntlets clasped onto both of his hands and forearms. Havok was speaking to his X-Men teammates' through the black and red 'X' badge-like comm-devices, which they all wore on various areas of their uniforms', while they watched as this towering Sentinel robot slowly made its approach towards them on this now deserted city-street. It was an unusual sight to behold, both because of this gargantuan maroon and blue construct lumbering towards them, and because of this being an empty street in busy New York City in the middle of the day.

But, to see Alex in a situation like this was also something of a surprise, since he had initially turned down a previous invitation from Professor Xavier to join his X-Men, in lieu of his desire to pursue a hopefully lucrative surfing career. But, after helping in the joint efforts of the X-Men and Brotherhood to stop Apocalypse, he could no longer bury his head in the sand and pretend not to see what was going on in the world around him.

Following a transfer from his home in Hawaii to Bayville and to the Xavier Institute, it wasn't too long afterwards that Alex displayed an impressive leadership aptitude. Which Professor Xavier noticed, and it helped Alex to earn a position as the squad's new deputy-captain and to take over the reins from his older brother Scott, the now graduated X-Man known also as Cyclops.

"Well guys, I think I'll volunteer to introduce myself first, and get up in this turkey's chest while I'm at it!" Ray Crisp, the electrifying mutant also known as Berserker suddenly said, as he used his powers to do exactly as he had stated.

Dressed in a dark-silver, black, and red-trimmed uniform, Berserker rushed over and quickly shot a heavily-charged lightning bolt out of both if his hands, as he stood down on the street-level with the Sentinel. His powerful discharge landed dead center in the chest of the Sentinel, which was now standing right above him.

And then, it was on.

The Sentinel immediately retaliated, opening said chest and torso up to reveal a circular shaped pulse tri-cannon within, which it unleashed with destructive results. A spray of ionically-charged stun blasts rained down upon them, scattering Berserker and his fellow X-Men for cover on various sections of this emptied street.

"Since it looks like Trask didn't waste any time after getting sprung from prison picking up where he left off at, I think we should do the same." Havok now said next through his communicator, "Cannonball, Magma, Sunspot, you guys're up next."

With the cue given, Amara Aquilla, the volcanic-inducing Magma used her powers to first change her entire body into her fire-form, right before sending a seismically-induced rift down the middle of the street. A breach was now created in the paved-asphalt, which came to an intentional stop directly underneath the Sentinel, as a surging stream of hot lava suddenly erupted and burgeoned forth. The molten rock shot straight up and washed over the Sentinel completely, scorching the galvanized steel and durable polymer materials that its exterior hull had been constructed from.

The Sentinel struggled to regain its bearings, as it used an onboard foam-coolant apparatus to douse the flames and quell the heat that was seeping into its internal circuitry. Meanwhile, Samuel Guthrie and Roberto da Costa, the rocket-powered Cannonball and the solar-charged Sunspot respectively, now prepared to jump into action next to do their parts in helping to keep this giant robot off-kilter.

"All right buddy, are ya ready?" Cannonball asked Sunspot, as the two young men stood a few yards from one another on the street's sidewalk, after having just watched Magma do her thing.

"Of course!" Sunspot smiled and replied as this teen, whose body was now crackling and currently aglow with the yellow and black solar energies that he absorbed directly from the sun itself, now clasped both of his hands together with his palms facing up and then held them down slightly right in front of himself, "One fastball special coming up!"

"Then, here goes!" Cannonball now announced, as he pulled the brown pilot's goggles, which went with his navy and orange-trimmed outfit, down out of his blonde hair past his forehead and securely fastened them across his face.

Then, he took off sprinting towards Sunspot.

Stepping up with one foot into Sunspot's grasp, Cannonball was immediately thrusted upward and catapulted high up into the air, courtesy of his teammate's augmented super-strength. Now in mid-flight and drawing ever closer with tremendous velocity towards this Sentinel, whose internal threat matrix had yet to notice him since he wasn't using his mutant powers, Cannonball waited until the very last minute possible before igniting his kinetic blast-field. He then propelled himself through the air with the speed of a supersonic jet-plane, literally turning himself into a human missile, which was his intent all along.

As Cannonball forcefully slammed into the center of the Sentinel's chest, hitting it right where Berserker had already landed a good shot of his own, the Sentinel was knocked off-balance and stumbled backwards as a result of the violent impact, falling back into another nearby multi-story building. But despite being on the ropes, the Sentinel remained true to its programming and continued its attack against this group of mutants that it was currently engaged with.

To that end Wolfsbane, who was currently in her full lupine-form, and Multiple, who had just created a small army of identical dupes that were all dressed in dark-green and sage-trimmed uniforms like him, managed to keep the Sentinel's focus occupied. Wolfsbane and Multiple provided the Sentinel with numerous targets to zero in on, as the two of them continued to move to and from on the street and draw the robots repeated laser and energy fire.

"Get ready Iceman." Havok said next into his comm-device before turning towards Lorna Dane, the both visually and literally magnetizing, green-haired X-Man codenamed Polaris, whom was standing right beside him, "It's our turn now."

While Multiple and Wolfsbane were keeping the Sentinel busy down below, Polaris used her power that allowed her to manipulate magnetic fields to transport Havok and herself down onto the street, where they were supposed to be met by Iceman. The plan was for this trio to jump in and finish this fight together by delivering a death-blow to their mechanized foe, hoping to do so before the Sentinel could recover and generate a counter-response to their current stratagem.

But, before Havok and Polaris had the opportunity to touch down onto the street from the roof of the building above, Iceman decided to go ahead and take advantage of the Sentinel's currently debilitated state.

"Bobby, what are you doing! Stick to the plan!" Havok shouted through his comm, as he and Polaris watched Iceman use his ice-slide to hastily rush over towards the Sentinel, which was still stuck in the side of the building behind it.

"I'm gonna get to him before he has the chance to get back up on his feet. Once I ice over that cannon in its chest, it'll be out of commission for good!" Bobby Drake, this frostily-disposed teen in body but certainly not in demeanor who also went by Iceman, replied through his comm.

Iceman was now prepared to charge the Sentinel head-on by himself, not wanting their over-sized opponent to get the opportunity to commence with a fresh, new offensive. And Iceman did as he said once he was there, using his ability to generate frigid temperatures from his own body to freeze-up the Sentinel's circular tri-cannon within its torso, which was indeed the Sentinel's main weapon.

But, certainly not its sole, nor even its most dangerous one.

With the damage done that Magma had done to its main internal processing components now repaired, the Sentinel had been given just enough time to get itself completely back online. And even though its central cannon was now frozen and currently of no use, the Sentinel adjusted both its tactics and approach to its mutant foes. Without warning a huge, long-barreled 33 mm gatling-gun emerged from out of its left arm, as the Sentinel's internal threat matrix reassessed its directive priorities. It now realized that it was facing multiple, dangerous mutant targets, which necessitated and authorized it to use more lethal means in dealing with them.

The Sentinel's first order of business now was to sweepingly spray round-after-round from its heavy-caliber gatling-gun at Iceman, shattering his ice-slide out from underneath him and dropping the icy-mutant down onto the steel hood of a car that had been parked on the street below. Next, a launching bay rose up out of the Sentinel's right shoulder, revealing a small missile battery that it then fired at the remaining mutants all on the street. Luckily, Polaris was able to use her electromagnetic powers and full concentration to magnetically redirect the missiles back at the Sentinel, who was forced to counter by using the gatling-gun in its arm to take out its own offensive measures.

But, stopping these dozen or so missiles had left Polaris extremely taxed and exhausted, as she quickly passed out from the strain of her feat. Instead of sticking with their plan, which called for him to finish off the Sentinel with a powerful, cosmic-energy blast, Havok immediately rushed over to grab hold of an unconscious Polaris securely into his arms, before she fell down onto the hard concrete.

The Sentinel however remained unrelenting, as it continued its maneuvers and used another device in its right arm to shoot out a green, gel-like substance at the X-Men on the ground below it. It first turned this restraining measure on Havok and Polaris, whose powers it had deemed to pose the greatest threat, enveloping them in this substance that quickly hardened into porous crystal to capture them both. Next, the Sentinel used its gatling-gun to scatter and confuse the other X-Men all over the street with another volley, as it then used its right-arm cannon that fired the restrictive gel to target and capture Magma, Berserker, Cannonball, and Sunspot, followed by Iceman, Wolfsbane, and finally Multiple.

With the X-Men beaten, the Sentinel paused to reload its gatling-gun and the onboard missile launchers that had now appeared on both of its shoulders, as it prepared to follow its Prime Directives in regards to mutants who were deemed exceptionally dangerous. By using lethal force to--

"--terminate sequence!"

These were the words loudly spoken through a loudspeaker, just as the Sentinel was about to finish off its quarry. Words, which came from Professor Charles Xavier himself, who had been observing his X-Men along with the junior-level students' from a protected and window-encased control booth above.

As this street environment in New York City began to fade away, the scenery was quickly replaced by the cold, metallic domed-chamber that was the Danger Room, the underground training area that his X-Men used to run through their various exercises and preparation situations, such as the one they had just been engaged in with this Sentinel. And, one which they had just failed miserably, as the green crystal-like substance also disappeared, releasing the X-Men from their confinements.

"Bobby, what the hell was that!" Were the first words that Havok shouted out, after he and his fellow X-Men were freed, "You were supposed to wait for me and Lorna to get down there and then back us up on my signal, not pull some hot-dog stunt like that!"

"And you'd know all about hot-doggin' it, wouldn't you?" Bobby replied in an equally annoyed tone, "All I was doing was trying to make up for the fact that your whole, stupid plan sucked to begin with. And if you hadn't been so busy drooling over Lorna and setting things up just to impress your girlfriend, by making yourself look like some kinda big-shot instead of the team-newbie, you would've figured that out and come up with a battle-plan that might've actually worked!"

"Alex is not my boyfriend." Lorna sighed and coolly said to everyone in general, but more so to Bobby in particular, as she now stood there in the Danger Room dressed in her lavender and black X-uniform, also feeling fairly irritated herself thanks to this entire situation.

"Could'a fooled me, especially with how he gets all hostile when any other guy gets within five feet of you." Bobby sharply replied to Lorna, which seemed to only aggravate Alex even further.

"No, the only thing that's got me hostile are teammates who're reckless and can't even follow a simple order!" Alex yelled, as he took a few steps over towards Bobby.

"You gotta be kidding me! We all know the only reason you're squad leader is because the Professor, for some reason, thinks you're the second coming of big-brother." Bobby shouted, and did so in a very insulting tone.

"You leave my family out of this Drake, or I swear I'll--" Alex now said, as he curled one of his hands up into a fist.

It was a confrontation that had been slowly building between the two, since Alex had come to stay at the Institute permanently. But, the tension between them had escalated even further, after Alex had been named as the team's new captain shortly thereafter.

"Or you'll what, surfer-boy?" Bobby interrupted and now dared Alex, as he also got into an aggressive stance and the two looked as though they were about to come to blows.

But, just as some of their teammates' were about to jump in and separate the two…

"**Or, you both will settle down this instant**!" Professor Xavier angrily interjected himself, as the huge blast doors to the Danger Room had just slid open to allow him access to wheel inside.

Which caught everyone in there slightly off-guard, as it was a rarity for the X-Men to ever hear Professor Xavier raise his voice in such a manner.

"Professor, he started it. You saw him out there and how he was acting." Alex now turned and said to Professor X.

"What I did see, was the fact that all of you failed in achieving your training objective, which is disappointing considering that you should have easily beaten today's exercise. Had this been a real-life situation, and not in a simulated environment, none of us would even be having this conversation right now. Rather, I would now be in my study looking up the names and phone numbers of your parents', so that I could inform them that all of you had been killed fighting this Sentinel." Professor Xavier now calmly said to the entire team, doing so in a tenor that unapologetically brought home this sobering fact to his X-Men. He wanted his statement to illustrate to them just how crucial he considered these exercises to be, which he had them constantly running down here in the Danger Room.

Then, Professor X turned his attention towards Alex, and to Bobby specifically.

"And, I would think you two especially to be of a mind to set a better example for those younger students watching you." Professor Xavier continued, as he sat there dressed in an outfit consisting of a black blazer and slacks, which he wore with a white turtleneck sweater underneath, and now motioned up towards the control booth above, "I have made Alex this squad's deputy-leader. And as such, you need to respect the fact that he is in charge of this team during mission exercises, Robert."

"So, what you're saying is I should just mindlessly march along with his orders, even though I know they're all wrong?" Bobby now shook his head and questioningly responded to his Headmaster.

"Of course not. But, what I do expect of you is to use appropriate judgment, and to know when it is the proper time and place to air any grievances you may have with team-protocol or with any battle strategies. And, not to senselessly endanger your teammates' safety, their very lives', whether it's during a training session or in the middle of a mission." Professor Xavier sat in his wheelchair and looked up at Bobby to scoldingly reply to his inquiry.

"Whatever, I can see exactly where this is going!" Bobby shouted, as he felt that this was an argument that he wasn't going to win, and was now furious over everything that had happened, "I'm outta here!"

Bobby then walked right past Professor Xavier and out of the Danger Room, leaving him and his teammates' behind without saying another word. But, what Bobby had failed to realize was that someone winning or losing this debate wasn't the point that the Professor had been trying to make to him in the first place.

**………………………………………………………**

Much later that evening, enough time should have passed by then that those tempers, which had flared down in the Danger Room during the team's after-school training session, would have been sufficiently cooled off by now.

Well, for the most part anyways.

Angelica Jones, herself being one of the newest additions to the Xavier Institute, was just now beginning to get a handle on the fact that she was a mutant, after having discovered that new reality in a most dramatic fashion very recently. Having had to move from her home in New Jersey to not only a new school and to new classmates' here in Bayville, but also having to adjust to this entirely new life as an apparent X-Man-in-training, Angelica thought that she was coping and dealing with these changes fairly maturely, all things considered.

But, as she walked from the library down one of the mansion's seemingly infinite set of hallway corridors, following a number of footsteps behind her fellow junior-squad teammates' Everett Thomas and Paige Guthrie, Angelica soon passed by one of the windows where something outside, actually where someone outside, managed to catch her attention from just out of the corner of her eye. A someone out there, who was having a bit more difficulty at the moment in dealing with his frustrations in a mature manner.

As Angelica went to a nearby doorway to exit from the mansion and come out into its beautiful and carefully maintained garden, she saw that Bobby was out there still wearing his ice and dark-blue X-uniform. Angelica also observed that Bobby had obviously been very busy, seeing as he had been out here in the garden ever since he had stormed out of the Danger Room earlier in the afternoon.

Bobby had been out here using his ice-powers to create a frozen baseball bat in his right hand, which he then used to take swings at ice-baseballs, also of his creation, aiming them at an ice-statue that had been erected in the garden's central area. The statue itself bore a striking resemblance to Alex Summers and was a very unflattering ice-sculpture effigy that Bobby had fashioned of him, one which depicted the younger Summers' brother standing there in his uniform with his index-finger stuck up his nose. But, the result from all of Bobby's afternoon activities was that most of the garden was now covered in snow, ice, and a melting slush that was a mixture composed of the two.

"…what I oughta do is take this 'n go back inside, and slap surfer-boy upside his fat-head with it!" Bobby muttered to himself, as he stood there with the large ice-bat hanging down by his side in his hand. Bobby now stared up at the statue, which had small pockmarks all over it where his ice-baseballs had hit it, most notably on its face and on other, more unmentionable, regions.

"Um, that's probably not such a good idea." A new, and unexpected voice, now came up and said to Bobby from behind.

"Huh?" Bobby asked aloud, as he turned around to see this redheaded-teen walking towards him, whom he instantly recognized as that new girl Angelica.

And who, unlike him, had changed out of her uniform and was now dressed in a pink and white-striped blouse that had the sleeves rolled-up, along with a pair of loose fitting jeans.

"I don't think the Professor'll appreciate you taking that bat inside, and committing random acts of violence inside of his home with it." Angelica jokingly remarked to Bobby, as she continued slowly sauntering over towards him.

"Oh, you can believe there won't be anything random about it, I know exactly who I'm gonna go in and use it on!" Bobby replied, his tone revealing that he was still very steamed over what had happened between him and Alex earlier in the afternoon.

Which was something unexpected, given that Bobby most of the time usually displayed a humorous and fairly laid-back, devil-may-care attitude. Plus the fact that if anyone should be able to cool off quickly, it would be an individual who could easily freeze objects without giving it a second thought.

"Still, you're already in enough hot-water, which probably wouldn't good for a guy like you anyways." Angelica playfully ribbed him, referring to the noticeable mutant attributes that had been bestowed upon him, "And if he sees it, I really don't think Professor Xavier's gonna appreciate you redecorating his garden like this, by turning it into a winter-wonderland in the middle of spring without his permission."

Angelica then closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself to use her own mutant powers, which had earned her the codename of Firestar thanks to the microwave energies that her own body naturally produced and manipulated. And even though she was still had a ways to go in learning to control this tremendous power that coursed through and around her, which gave her an almost aural appearance when she consciously activated them, Firestar was at least now proficient enough with her mutant abilities to use them fairly effectively at their lowest levels.

"What're you doing?" Bobby now asked Angelica, as he had finally managed to calm himself down and was somewhat curious about this girl, who had come outside to interrupt his private venting session.

"Just my specialty." Angelica replied, as she turned back towards him with a huge, giggly smile across her face, "I guess you could say I kinda have a knack for ruining ice-sculptures. But, at least this time it's on purpose."

Angelica then turned back around and continued to use her powers to melt the statue and the surrounding ice that covered the garden's tall bushes, flowers, and other assorted foliage, along with the icy sludge that was on the ground. She proceeded to slowly thaw out the entire garden as though she were offering nature itself a gentle, helping hand in undoing Bobby's handiwork out here.

"You don't have to do that." Bobby now said, as the ice-bat in his hand was also slowly starting to melt as a result of the heat that Angelica was throwing off, and he decided to set it down on the ground and let it finish its conversion back into its liquid state.

"I know. It's just that I didn't want to see you get into anymore trouble, especially after the way you already flipped out in front of the Professor down in the Danger Room today." Angelica replied, as the ground and concrete was becoming greatly saturated from the water that was now freely flowing down around their feet.

"You'd flip out too, if you were me. I mean, Alex didn't even want to be an X-Man, and here I had to literally beg the Professor just to let me go on some of those missions with the old team." Bobby began to explain, revealing some of the reasons behind his frustrations, which he had been bottling up inside and was now talking about for the first time with anyone, "But, all he has to do is pull a total 180, waltz in here and…**bamm**! Professor Xavier puts another Summers' in charge and has him running the show."

"You mean instead of you?" Angelica rather bluntly stated to Bobby, as she continued focusing on her task at hand.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bobby now inquired of her.

"What I mean, is you thought you should've been made squad leader instead of Alex?" Angelica clarified for Bobby, as she had picked up an the under-running sense of jealousy emanating from him, "That's why you're really mad at Alex, because the Professor picked him over you?"

"No, I didn't even want to be captain." Bobby responded, although her assertion immediately began to sink in on him, if only just a little, "But, if I did, I could probably do a better job than him. I mean, we were the ones left here sticking it out when things got really tough, after the rest of the world found out about us being mutants, while he was living it up on a sunny beach somewhere. It's just not fair to any of us!"

"Hate to break it to you, but Professor Xavier didn't pick Alex over you because of whoever his brother is." Angelica unabashedly told Bobby, despite the fact that she'd actually yet to meet Alex's brother and had only heard through second-hand rumors about him and his, now almost legendary, exploits with the other graduate X-Men.

"Really? Well, why don't you go ahead and inform me then?" Bobby sarcastically invited her to continue.

"It's because no one really takes you seriously, usually not most of the time anyways. All people ever expect from you is for you to pull some kinda dumb prank or practical joke, like going in and freezing over the shower in the boys' locker room." Angelica said, referring to one of the recurring activities, besides garden decorator, that she'd repeatedly seen Bobby engaging in during her time at the school thus far.

"So, you think you've got me completely figured out in just, what, the whole month you've been living here?" Bobby skeptically questioned Angelica, his tone now relaying a bit of resentment towards her regarding what she had just said about him.

"I didn't say it to be mean or anything, I was only trying to be honest with you." Angelica told Bobby, as she had just finished melting all of the ice that he had created in the garden, and now proceeded to take a few steps towards him, "But, since I am being honest with you, I guess I should tell you something else."

"What, that my breath totally reeks, on top of the fact you think I'm some kinda slacker, goof-off loser?" Bobby snidely asked of her, as he folded his arms over in front of himself.

"No, but it is about all that stuff I just told you." Angelica replied, as she powered herself down and the glowing microwave aura that had surrounded her body now dissipated.

"Yeah?" Bobby said, waiting for her to say something else that pointed out another one of his flaws or inadequacies.

"Well, I do think it's mostly true. But, what I didn't say is I also think you maybe could be just as good of a leader as Alex. Or maybe even his brother, if you wanted to and really, really, worked hard at it." Angelica explained to him.

"You're not just saying that, so I won't run off to my room crying over getting my feelings stomped on by the new girl, are you?" Bobby finally smiled and said to her, as his sense of humor was showing flashing signs of now making a rapid recovery.

"Like I said, I've been honest with you so far, so why would I start lying to you now?" Angelica said to him, as she came even closer to Bobby and was now standing just a couple of feet away from him in the middle of the garden, "I mean, I've been watching you pretty closely, and I meant every single word I said."

"Sooo, you've been watching me closely, huh?" Bobby now slowly articulated, as a smirk came to his face after hearing Angelica's last statement.

"Yeah, well I…um…" Was all that Angelica managed to stumble and get out, as she began to blush profusely and her entire face turned red once she realized what Bobby was getting at, after he heard her slip of the tongue regarding the apparent interest that she had taken in him.

Finding herself in a strange and awkwardly uneasy situation like this with a guy, and an older one at that, for the first time in her life, Angelica simply flashed Bobby a quick and brief glance before she quickly spun back around and left the garden. Angelica hurried back inside to the mansion, and to the sanctuary of her bedroom upstairs, now feeling slightly embarrassed at having accidentally revealed her slowly budding and secret crush to the very object of her growing affections.

Meanwhile Bobby remained outside, as the sun was just now beginning its descent into the partially-cloudy horizon behind him. And like Angelica, he too felt a strange and new sensation within him. It was the kind of feeling that one experiences upon the realization that another person actually believes in you, and in the potential of your talents, even though you currently may not.

It was also in knowing that this other person thinks that you are capable of achieving things, which you had previously never even considered to be possible. And while it may not necessarily have anything to do with even possessing a desire to lead anyone, it could still promote a tremendous sense of inspiration as a result of this awareness that, maybe, you really could accomplish something of great significance in your life.

Or that she could, at the very least, motivate him to want to try…

**…………………………………………..…………………..**

Next chapter: **Wolverine. Sunfire. Boys' Night Out**!


	2. Playing With The Boys

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 2- Playing with the Boys

Location: _Tokyo, Japan- Ginza District_

On a Friday night in Japan's largest metropolitan city it should only be expected that most of those currently in Tokyo, whether it be its residents, those workers commuting in from outlying suburban areas, or foreign tourists just here visiting, would all be out on the town to have a good time and enjoy themselves.

As is the case of two individuals in particular, who have just entered a popular drinking establishment located in Tokyo's famed Ginza District. And, while one of them is a native to this city and of this country, the other is not. He is a man who has journeyed from far away, but has spent enough time over the years traveling throughout Japan that it could easily be argued he might've earned, at the very least, honorary citizenship.

"You sure I didn't catch you at a bad time, M'iko?" Were the words spoken aloud by Logan, as he entered this modestly-lit bar first.

He came in dressed in his customary black and brown-trimmed leather jacket, which was worn over a simple black t-shirt, had on a pair of faded jeans, a brown Stetson hat and brown cowboy boots, and was sporting a pair of wire-framed shades with brownish-gold lenses in them.

"No. And even if you had, I'll always find a way to make time for you." Was the response given to Logan's inquiry by one Mariko Yashida, the beautiful Asian woman accompanying him this evening.

This woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties and whom Logan was now standing and holding the front door open for, came into the bar next as they were talking to one another. Mariko entered the bar wearing a, somewhat, expensive looking suede-colored long coat, and she had her jet-black hair tied into two very long pigtails on each side of her head. Mariko then proceeded to lead Logan further inside and over to a lengthy wooden bar-counter, where they each took a seat on two bar-stools right beside one another.

"(I'll have a Midori Sour.)" Mariko now said to a middle-aged bartender when he came over to take their order, before she then turned back towards Logan, "What about you?"

"You even gotta ask?" Logan shook his head and smirkingly replied, as he now looked at the bartender, "(Two beers.)"

As the bartender walked off behind the bar to go prepare their drinks, Logan and his female companion were left to continue with their conversation.

"Still drinking for two, I see." Mariko teasingly said to Logan, as they sat there on the stools with their bodies turned slightly towards one another.

"As fast as I'm able to burn 'em off, I could probably drink for twenty and still really not feel it." Logan smiled and smartly replied, "But, I wouldn't want you to think I had a problem or anything."

"And where on Earth would I get an idea like that?" Mariko sarcastically told him, letting out a heartfelt laugh as she sat with her left arm propped up on the bar's counter. Mariko's face was delicately resting up against the semi-fist, which she had curled her hand up into, as she now happily gazed over at Logan.

"Beats me." Logan light-heartedly responded, as the bartender now returned with their drinks.

"I'm glad that you decided to look me up, before you headed back home. It has been awhile since we last saw one another." Mariko now said to Logan, as she took a small sip from the glass that had been placed in front of her.

"Me too. It's been real good seein' you again, darlin'." Logan sincerely remarked, as he took a much larger gulp from one of the two Kirin-labeled longnecks sitting in front of him, "Besides, 'Ro would blow me back out the front-door of the mansion, if she found out I'd been here all this time and didn't even bother to stop in to at least say hi to ya."

"And even with all of that wind-power at her disposal, none of us have yet to find a way to successfully manage that hair-do of yours." Mariko said, as she resumed with her playful ribbing of Logan, and was now teasing him about his rather 'distinctive' hairstyle.

"You know, I musta heard you make that joke probably about a million times by now. And it still manages to get less and less funny each time I hear it." Logan shook his head with a slight grin, as he continued to sip on his beer.

"So tell me, how's everything going back in Bayville?" Mariko now asked, as the mention of Storm had caused her to drift off onto a new conversational subject with Logan.

"Things're good. The new kids're a handful sometimes, but that's only to be--" Logan was saying to her, when he was unexpectedly interrupted by a small crowd, which had just as quickly and unexpectantly gathered behind him and Mariko.

"(You have great audacity, coming and showing your face around here!)" A young man named Hiro, who was acting as spokesman of this mini-mob, vocally exclaimed in Japanese and made his feelings known to them.

"(Look bub, if you have a problem with me and the lady being--) Logan was starting to say, when he was once again rudely interrupted, this time by another of the men in this group.

"(Best that you stay out of this, Westerner! Unless, you wish to share her fate.)" This second man named Ko'ichi now said to Logan, doing so in a very aggressive manner, as he straightened the coat jacket of his plum-colored suit.

He, like these other men standing with him, were all dressed in flashy, loud-colored suits of varying shades, and were each wearing disapproving looks on their faces as well.

"(And, would you care to enlighten me as to what that is supposed to mean?)" Mariko now inquired about this man's veiled threat, as she gently sat her glass back down onto the bar's surface, and stood up to face this group of more than half a dozen men.

"(You know what we are talking about. We know who you are, and more over, we also know what you are.)" Hiro, whom Mariko recognized as being a Yakuza, a member of one of Japan's organized-crime families', said to her.

"(Then, if you know of me, then you also know it is not wise to anger me.)" Mariko replied, this time as a sly smile came to her face.

"(Angering you is the least of the things we intend to do to you, not after the way in which you shamed and dishonored our Grand Oyabun, Lord Tatsu'o!)" Another of the Yakuza in the group named Toshi shouted.

"(Your 'Lord' had it coming. And, it is not as though he had not been given fair warning as to what would happen, if he continued in his attempts to pursue an expansion of his most illicit and exploitative enterprises.)" Mariko mockingly replied, as she now stood facing them with her back smoothly leaning back up against the bar's counter.

It was at this point that each of the Yakuza drew weapons' from out of their suit coats', mainly consisting of knives and hand-guns. But, Mariko stood there unflinchingly, as she continued sipping her drink. Then, she turned over towards Logan.

"Would you be a sweet-heart and hold this for me, just for a moment." Mariko asked Logan in a very serious and stern tone, as she took off her lightweight, microfiber coat and tossed it over to him.

"Sure, M'iko." Logan smiled and replied, as he grabbed her coat in mid-air and placed it across one of his legs, while holding his beer in his other hand.

Now revealed from underneath Mariko's coat was the outfit she had on, which consisted of a tight-fitting, short-sleeved black and red top, a pair of curve-hugging black pants, and was further accessorized with a pair of black, patent leather side-zip boots.

"(Since we are at an impasse in communicating via our native tongue, it seems that I will have to speak to all of you in a language that you can more easily comprehend.)" Mariko now said to this small group of Yakuza in response to their threats against her, as the other patrons inside of the bar knew that trouble of some kind was about to hit the place, and began to quickly make their way towards the bar's exit.

Despite the fact that it appeared this rumble wouldn't last very long, what with a single woman about to take on an entire gang of armed thugs' by herself, the other patrons were aware nonetheless that these kinds of altercations had a way of sometimes spiraling out of control. But, it was a fear not shared by their fellow foreign-patron, as Logan didn't move an inch and remained on his bar-stool with his beer in hand, waiting for the festivities to begin.

"(Prepare to pay for your transgressions, woman!)" Ko'ichi yelled, as he rapidly chambered the Glock 9mm handgun now in his grip, and then pointed it at her.

"(Very well. Allow me to quench all of your appetites' for vengeance, by giving you a generous serving of Sunfire!)" Mariko calmly replied to the gangsters', as she now closed her eyes.

And in the blink of an eye, Mariko's entire outward appearance underwent a radical and drastic change. Her body was immediately consumed within and without by a radiant fire, a raging inferno of power, that now manifested itself in a combustible energy-field of flames that completely enveloped and surrounded her.

Now, these Yakuza would have to deal with Sunfire, former X-Man and current scourge to the Japanese criminal underworld and their illegal activities. And despite being out-numbered and out-gunned by these Yakuza, Sunfire was about to show them that they were the ones who were out-classed when it came to seeking this confrontation with her.

In a flash, Sunfire used her powers to quickly project multiple tight and concentrated energy beams at the Yakuza, aiming her laser-like heat rays at the weapons' in their hands. The effect was that the metal, which these guns and knives had been made out of, instantly and exponentially increased in temperature. This made it impossible for any of the Yakuza to continue maintaining the weapons' within their grasps.

That is, unless they wanted to have the flesh burned right off of their hands, which would have been the case if they hadn't automatically dropped this searing steel from out of their clutches. And so proficient and experienced was Sunfire in wielding her mutant abilities, that she was able to melt the guns and knives into metal-slag, without burning or causing any additional damage to anything else inside of the bar.

With her enemies now disarmed, Sunfire was left with an opportunity to demonstrate to the Yakuza that she was also just as skilled in fighting without her powers, in hand-to-hand combat.

**_Krak_**!

**_Bamm_**!

**_Boom_**!

"(Do you not think that you should find a safe place to take cover?)" The bartender said to Logan, who was still seated on his bar-stool, as the barkeep himself was barely peeking up from behind the bar-counter to observe what was happening to his establishment.

"And what? Give up this choice, front-row seat to all the action? You gotta be kiddin' me!" Logan, who was all smiles by this point, happily replied.

Just then, a couple of broken beer bottles and a chair whizzed by overhead and loudly smashed against the wall behind them. In the meantime, Logan remained unphased by it all and had now opened and started on his second beer, while continuing with his role of eager spectator and watched as Sunfire and the Yakuza went at it in the center of the bar.

Despite their efforts, Sunfire proceeded to nail the Yakuza members' with furiously flying sucker punches to the jaw, and spinning roundhouse kicks that managed to connect everywhere else. In the process, they managed to turn over a number of tables, bar-stools, and other pieces of furniture in the bar, some of them being shattered upon impact as Sunfire slammed her foes down into them. And it was soon made all the more evident that these men of the Yakuza had bitten off more than they could handle, and were simply out of their depth in this fight with an ex-X-Man.

Once the last of the Yakuza had gone through a table, to be knocked unconscious like his brethren, Mariko instinctively fixed her hair back into place and then came back over to where Logan and the bartender were.

"I'll take that over an hour of Tae-bo any day." Mariko humorously remarked, as she came back up to the bar-counter, picking her glass up and finishing the remainder of her drink all in one gulp.

"Still fightin' the good-fight in your one-woman crusade, I see?" Logan remarked, as he now motioned for the barkeep to go and prepare another drink for Mariko, "And not makin' too many friends along the way either."

"Nor will I rest, not until the Yakuza and their influence have been eradicated. And especially not until my father, and those others within the Clan Yashida responsible for turning it into a symbol of the most vile corruption by using it to help bolster Tokyo's criminal underworld network, have all been brought to justice!" Mariko steadfastly replied, once again vocalizing her desire to disrupt, and eventually dismantle, the unlawful enterprises that Japan's mafia families' were immersed in.

Which was tantamount to her making a declaration of war against them all, with her own powerful and esteemed family to be counted among them.

"More power to ya then, 'slugger'." Logan approvingly told Mariko, as her second drink now arrived.

"And I see that you've mastered the art of self-restraint." Mariko whimsically commented to Logan, as she retook her seat at the bar-counter, "I remember a time when, if someone had even looked at me crossly, you wouldn't have hesitated to inject your fists and/or claws into the situation."

"Guess I must be mellowin' in my old age." Logan retorted, as he now ordered another beer for himself, "Plus, I knew you could handle yourself in that throw-down, seein' as I had a helpin' hand in that department."

"And I obviously still have some learning to do." Mariko replied, as she pointed out to Logan a minor cut now visible on her upper-right arm.

Mariko was somewhat angry at herself for even allowing the broken beer bottle, which had been thrown at her and which she thought she had successfully dodged, to somehow manage to graze her.

"Hmmph, I think that's going to take care of the drinking, fighting, and swearing portion of our evening." Mariko smiled and told Logan, as she took a sip from this new glass, "Well, the drinking and fighting portion anyways."

"You got that shit right." Logan sat back a little against the bar-counter, as he calmly and sarcastically responded to her statement.

"Okay, now that we can go ahead and check swearing off of the list as well, what's up next on tonight's agenda?" Mariko raised one eyebrow and asked of Logan, as he went and pulled a cigar from out of his coat jacket.

"I vote for goin' somewhere 'n gettin' laid." Logan looked at Mariko and candidly said to her, doing so with a huge grin now plastered across his face.

Mariko was one of the few ladies that Logan knew, who didn't get outright offended by some of his comments, which were at times far more colorful and offhand than the one he had just uttered. She even seemed to encourage him a little, when it was just the two of them, by usually providing provocative wisecracks of her own that she would direct right back at him.

"And, I'd probably be more than happy to oblige you." Mariko giggled and nodded her head, as she replied to Logan's desire for carnal contact, all the while keenly using her mutant powers to light Logan's cigar for him with a tiny flame-burst from one of her fingers, "If I were straight, that is."

"Thanks. But, I was actually talkin' about us blowin' this joint, and goin' somewhere where there's some real action happenin'." Logan clarified, as he chomped down on the now lit stogie in his mouth.

"In that case, I know the perfect place. It's only a few blocks from here." Mariko told him, as she chugged down the remaining contents of her second drink, before they both stood up from their stools, "I even have a few female friends that I could introduce you to."

"These lady-friends o' yours, they are into those of us who go to the can standin' up, right?" Logan subtlely, or not so subtlely depending on one's point-of-view, asked of Mariko as he handed her coat back to her.

"Yep. Even those of you who seem to be aim-impaired." Mariko ribbingly replied, as she put her coat on and pulled some cash out of an interior coat-pocket to hand to the barkeep.

Money, which was meant to cover her and Logan's drinks, plus something a little extra for the barkeep's troubles, and also to cover the costs of the damages she had helped to cause to his bar during her fight with the Yakuza.

"Just thought I'd ask, you know, before I start checkin' out the merchandise." Logan said to Mariko, as he let a puff of smoke from out of his mouth and through his nostrils.

"How gentlemanly of you." Mariko drolly told him, continuing their banter as they began to head towards the front door.

"Well, I try." Logan smirked and responded, as he motioned towards the door, "C'mon, let's get outta here."

As Logan and Mariko walked towards the exit, he couldn't help but cast one last, parting glance towards the unconscious individuals who were still laid out on the floor of the bar.

"This's why I like hangin' out with you, never a dull moment." Logan quipped, as turned to his left to look at Mariko.

"No, you like hanging out with me because I always pick up the tab." Mariko laughed and pointed out for him.

"Nah darlin', that I love you for!" Logan smiled and facetiously told her, as he held the front door open for her, "After you, ma'am."

Mariko and Logan then exited from the bar, to continue their small celebration of his last night in Japan and to hopefully make it a night out on the town to remember. But, little did Mariko envision that those individuals, whom she had just left behind on the floor of the bar and who would soon regain consciousness, would not forget the events of this night either.

And while they might have been soundly beaten in there tonight by Sunfire, these men who were loyal to the end to Lord Tatsu'o, had no intentions of ever surrendering their spirits or their honor to defeat. They would soon dedicate themselves wholly to making sure that Sunfire would pay dearly for her transgressions, both against their honor and against their master's, and they would embark on a search to find a way to effectively counter the disadvantage that her mutant powers posed to them.

And once they had found a man, one whom had the means with which to provide them with an artificial upgrade, which would then give them the physically-augmented wherewithal to at last challenge Sunfire on equal footing, they would then become her most ruthless and unrelenting foes.

But that is a story, whose telling must be left for another day…

**……………………………………………..………….**

Next Chapter: Back home, a chance encounter between an Xavier Institute grad and a member of the Brotherhood proves that sometimes one thing does lead to another …


	3. One Thing Leads To Another

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 3- One Thing Leads To Another

The dawning of a new day, and with it comes the first rays of a newly risen sun to accompany its blissful arrival over the New York City skyline. Although, by the markedly unenthusiastic reactions of two recently transplanted New Yorkers' in particular, it has become quickly and unmistakably evident that not everyone is ready yet to welcome daybreak's beaming coruscations of sunlight. And as the sun's illumination gleamed sparsely through the third-story bedroom window of this apartment, which is where this cozy couple had been asleep scant moments ago, its golden rays shone further past them into the room and onto a small wooden shelf within the window's line of sight.

Now revealed in its spotlight were some of the contents that been left on this shelf, which included a dark-metallic colored Ankh symbol that was hooked onto a leather-bound neckstrap. This piece of distinctive jewelry itself was also sitting beside a number of books that ran all across the short shelf, each one dealing in some aspect with Wiccan beliefs, traditions, and ritual incantations; along with a number of other books that dealt with witch-craft, their related subjects, and the objects sometimes employed towards those ends.

"Unnnhh, is it morning already?" A female voice groggily asked, after having had rolled over towards the side of her bed so that she could reach out for the alarm clock on the nightstand next to her, whose blaring now accompanied the sunlight flowing into her bedroom.

"Mmmm, I am afraid so." Another voice, whose was most decidedly masculine in nature, drowsily replied to her inquiry, as he now awoke in this bed right beside his alluring and bewitching companion, with her sparkling form there being the first thing that greeted him this morning.

And that was the extent of their conversation. That is, until the snooze alarm on the clock went off again on the nightstand a few minutes later, reminding these two lovers' that a new day awaited them and that it certainly would not wait for them, despite their wishes to the contrary.

"Wanda…Wanda, it's time to get up." The male voice now said to Wanda Maximoff, as the blasting sound from the alarm filled the entire room. But it was to no avail, as Wanda continued to lay there with her face buried in her pillow, and was once again fast asleep next to him.

All of that quickly changed, however, when Wanda began to feel the unmistakable stroking caress from a slightly fuzzy, prehensile tail gently rubbing at her leg underneath the covers. It slowly moved from up around her upper-thigh, massagingly navigating the length of her leg down to her ankle. Once it had reached the bottom of her foot, a foot which was bare and happened to be turned towards him at the moment, it was then that he finally managed to get a response out of her.

"Stop it Kurt, that tickles!" Wanda loudly shrieked with a gleeful giggle, as she turned over on her other side just enough to turn off the alarm clock. And, to move her legs and feet back over to her side of the bed, and away from this pre-dawn tickling sensation.

"That's the idea, _Liebchen_." Kurt Wagner happily replied, as he lay there next to Wanda and gazed at this gorgeous creature beside him.

But, when Wanda simply laid there with her eyes closed and didn't respond to his remark, appearing to have drifted off into dreamland again, Kurt immediately proceeded again to slide his tail over towards her upper-calf.

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" Wanda now exclaimed, as she finally opened her baby-blue eyes to see Kurt lying there with an impish smirk on his face, while she shifted her entire body towards the head of the bed. Sitting up on the bed and pulling her knees up close to her body, Wanda then wrapped the top portion of the bed's sheet around her bare-skinned form underneath it.

Wanda held both of her hands up, running one of them through her black and crimson-highlighted hair before they both rubbed at eyes that were struggling to focus clearly, eyes which still bore substantial hints of yesterday's eye-shadow around them. Wanda still had her makeup on, since she hadn't had the opportunity to remove it as of yet, given that she had been otherwise occupied when she came home the night before, mostly with Kurt.

Meanwhile, Kurt also sat up in the bed and used his mutant powers to instantaneously teleport from underneath the covers over to the other side of the bedroom where the door was, and where his clothes had been left loosely scattered across the bedroom's floor. While Kurt quickly gathered up his attire, Wanda contentedly watched as this blue-furred mutant stood there getting dressed, and was somewhat clumsily struggling with putting one of his uniquely-shaped feet through the leg of his olive-colored pants. Wanda couldn't help but smile a little to herself, both at seeing Kurt's current predicament, and at the opportunity to visually inspect her boyfriend's very athletically-toned form one more time.

Boyfriend.

As she sat there on her bed quietly and affectionately observing Kurt's wardrobe tribulations, with just a thin linen bedsheet to camouflage her own current state of undress, Wanda also couldn't help but think to herself about how weird it felt for her to say that she even had a boyfriend, with whom she had been going out with exclusively now for nearly six months. Stranger still was Wanda's realization that she now felt a sense of peace and contentment in her life, and beyond even that, that she was for the first time in a very long time actually happy.

And, she knew that her being with Kurt had a lot to do with that.

The very fact that they had even become a couple had been something of mere happenstance. After defeating En Sabah Nur, the seemingly near-omnipotent mutant known also as Apocalypse, the members' of the X-Men and the Brotherhood had all returned home to Bayville and beyond, eagerly looking forward to the prospect of resuming a normal life. Or, at least what passed for normal for them, at any rate.

For Wanda, it meant entering her senior year of high school, with a ton of hard work ahead to look forward to. Having spent most of her teenage years in an asylum (although she had been brainwashed into believing that she had actually spent those missing years sick with illness in a foreign hospital), Wanda knew that she would have to really play catch up, just so she could earn enough credits to graduate with her brother Pietro and their other peers at Bayville High.

In addition, Wanda had to balance her considerable studies on top of continuing to attend her grueling instructional sessions under Agatha Harkness' tutelage. The hope was that Wanda's lessons with the elder sorceress would grant her a more thorough understanding of her own mutant powers. And, in addition to her eventually gaining almost complete mastery over her abilities, Wanda had also managed to become a knowledgeable and very powerful spell-caster in her own right, as a result.

Unexpectedly though, just a few months after returning home to Bayville from their battle outside of the Mayan pyramid in Mexico, Wanda one day out of the blue suddenly regained all of her memories, including the intimate details surrounding her excruciatingly painful past. Memories, which had been hidden away from her by the predominant illusionist Mastermind, who had done so at the behest of Magneto, Wanda's own father!

Pietro and the rest of their Brotherhood cohorts immediately took off and headed for the hills (literally), all bracing themselves for Wanda to hysterically explode and fly into one of her patented outbursts of hex-channeled rage, following the revelation that her mind had been so obscenely manipulated.

But, they were all surprised; totally shocked to be more accurate, when she did nothing of the sort.

Sure Wanda was angry, furious as a matter of fact, at suddenly remembering all of those years of being locked away in that damned asylum, of crying herself to sleep every night at the thought that it was her own father who had been the one responsible for having her placed there. And, this revelation that it was Magneto who had also been the one behind attempting to have those traumatic experiences wiped from her mind permanently in an attempt to hide that very fact, most certainly did not sit well with her either. But, during the time that Wanda had spent enthralled under Mastermind's post-hypnotic suggestion had wound up providing to her an unforeseen elucidating effect, which had afforded her something akin to a moment of clarity.

Wanda had come to the realization that she could waste the rest of her life, hell-bent on a vendetta quest for revenge against her father. And that she could allow herself to become so embittered and consumed by the tragic events of her own past that she would eventually become the one thing that she had truly despised, an exact copy of him, by waging a destructive war of retribution until it finally destroyed one, or both, of them.

Or, Wanda now saw that she could continue on the path that she had started in the interim while her memories had been thrown into an altered state, by picking up the pieces of her past and her life and reassembling them to hopefully discover who she really was? And, more importantly, by finding out whom it was that she really wanted to be?

After Wanda made such a profound and monumentous decision about the direction in which she wanted her life to go, and after reassuring Pietro that she had no intentions of picking up where she had left off with regards to him and their father (which drew a big sigh of relief from him), the brother and sister pair soon wound up having an earnest reconciliation with one another. Wanda and Pietro were able to reconnect in a way that they hadn't done in years, and the siblings instantly resolved to begin their relationship anew.

It was also not too long afterwards on a hazy, fall day in Bayville that a chance meeting took place between Wanda and Kurt. And Kurt, who had been slowly getting over the departure of Amanda Sefton from Bayville a number of months' prior, after her parents' had decided to pick up and move her from a town that they felt wasn't having an ideal influence on their daughter, was himself certainly not looking for any kind of romantic relationship at the moment.

So, things began at first with casual small-talk between the two, before they really wound up hitting it off. Which wasn't too much of a surprise, at least not to Wanda anyways, since Kurt always seemed to be the only member of the X-Men who wasn't afraid of her, and who had actually come to her a number of times in the past seeking her help. Their frequent, and often increasingly lengthy, conversations usually took place during school or afterwards in various locales around Bayville, and occasionally on the phone. And the pair would also periodically see one another whenever a threat of the super-powered variety would decide to pay a visit to Bayville. Threats, which the X-Men and Brotherhood sometimes wound up uniting to face down, and then worked in tandem to defeat together.

As Kurt and Wanda eventually got to know one another better, they quickly came to realize that they had quite a bit in common, ranging from their tragic upbringings, to their feelings of abandonment by their biological parents. But, beyond any similarities that they may have shared from their anguished pasts, these two soon came to see that what really linked them was a genuine desire to rise above it all. And during their more audacious, and extremely secluded moments alone, Kurt and Wanda sometimes even dared to tell each other some of the more private and personal hopes and dreams that they held. They would talk about the aspirations that they both envisioned for the near present, and also for a better and brighter future. It was a promising outlook, in which they both confidently believed that they had, at the very least, helped to lay the initial groundwork towards.

And, it was also within the optimistic confines of this hopefully brighter tomorrow, which Kurt and Wanda had also quickly and easily come to see themselves in.

Together.

"I'd better hurry up and get back home, so I can get ready for class." Kurt said to his girlfriend, as he had successfully tackled getting his pants on, and was now hurriedly working on the row of small buttons that ran up the front of his brown and gray block-check shirt.

"As early as it is, I think you'll have more than enough time. That is, if you catch the subway back down to your guys' house, and then haul your cute little ass straight over to ESU." Wanda smiled and calmly replied, as she turned her body a little over towards where Kurt was, "And, if you don't stop off for another one of your breakfast buffets full of greasy Gut-Bombs."

While turning to face herself in Kurt's direction, Wanda pulled the bedsheet up a little and readjusted it around her generous and plentiful curves, while referring to the house that Kurt and the other Xavier Institute grads shared in Manhattan, which was located fairly close to the campus of New York City's Empire State University where they had all been enrolled as students'.

"Hopefully, I can get in and out before the others' wake up." Kurt now told Wanda, as his blue, tri-fingered hands continued fumbling with his shirt-buttons.

"Why do you say that?" Wanda curiously now asked Kurt, as she decided to lend him a helping hand of her own, by using a small magic spell in conjunction with her probability powers to make the rest of the buttons on his shirt sequentially button themselves.

"So, I can avoid the third degree. I'm sure Scott and Jean are probably already up and out jogging, or in the park doing one of their other workouts. But, if Kitty or Rogue see me come in wearing the same clothes that I was wearing last night when I left to come pick you up, it'll be a free-for-all to find out where I was all night." Kurt explained, as he sat down on the floor and began to put on a pair of his specially-tailored, brown leather boots.

"I don't know why you're so worried, you've spent the night here with me before. And, I think Kitty and your sister can put two-and-two together pretty easy all on their own, and figure out where you were last night." Wanda laughed and pointed out for him.

"I know, and that's why I'd just as soon avoid a repeat experience." Kurt responded, as he raised an eyebrow and looked up at Wanda from his position on the floor, "You've never had to face Kitty, especially when she thinks that there's juicy gossip being intentionally kept from her? The girl can be downright brutal with her snooping, it's like she turns into the Head of the Inquisition or something!"

"Speaking of them, are we all still on for tonight?" Wanda suddenly changed subjects, and inquired of Kurt.

"Sure, do you still want to go?" Kurt now asked her, as he stood up and began fastening a black wristwatch around his arm.

"Yeah, sure! Do you know where this rave is gonna be?" Wanda responded and then questioned him, as she continued sitting with her legs pulled in tightly towards her underneath the bed covers, and now let her chin rest against the edge of her kneecaps.

"Kinda, I know it's somewhere up in the Bronx. But, Rogue and Kitty have been there before with some of their other friends' at ESU, and they're the ones who told me about it." Kurt revealed, as he finished strapping the watch on around his wrist, "We'll just meet up with you back here, since it'll be on our way up there. What time do you want us to swing by?"

"I guess I should be finished with closing the shop up, and be back here and ready to go by eight." Wanda now confirmed for Kurt, as he had finished dressing, and they had finished sizing up their plans for this Friday night excursion.

"Okay." Kurt said to Wanda, an instant before he disappeared in a cloud of bluish-black smoke.

Only to immediately reappear on top of the bed, crouching down right beside his ladylove.

"You know, you make it difficult for a man to tear himself away your side? Especially, with you sitting here all alone, and looking so very desirable like this." Kurt smirked and flirtatiously remarked to Wanda, sighing and emulatively imitating the romantic tone that he had seen some of the leading men use in those old, classic movies on cable TV, "Are you sure that you haven't accidentally cast one of your magic spells on me, my enchantress?"

"I'm pretty sure I haven't. So, maybe it's just a case of the fuzzy-dude diggin' this magic-chick then?" Wanda smiled and playfully replied, as she stared up into Kurt's beautiful yellow-white eyes, and put her own spin on one of her lover's favorite catch-phrases.

Kurt then leaned down and softly placed his hand against the side of Wanda's face, and proceeded to deliver a deeply sensuous and passionately-hot kiss upon her. Which, only made it that much harder for him to do what he had to next.

"Alas, until we meet again, my fair maiden. When yon light hath departed, and been swallowed whole into the evening tide." Kurt grinned and said to Wanda, as he once again leaned down to kiss her ruby-tinted lips, this time doing so with a light and very brief peck.

With that, Kurt turned a dial that was located on the side of his wristwatch. He then activated its image-inducer feature, right before he used his powers to once again teleport. This time, he exited the bedroom and reappeared down in an alley that lay on the outside of the apartment building where Wanda lived.

Meanwhile, Wanda sat there on her bed for a moment, staring off to her right and out of her bedroom window with a smiling, semi-blank expression on her face. Wanda slowly and gently ran her index finger across her lips, still able to feel the electricity in them along with an overall exhilaration that was coursing through the rest of her body, no doubt from her own 'Prince Charming's' captivating and beguiling way of telling her goodbye.

**……………………………………………………………………………**

After Kurt had departed and his seemingly transitory spell had finally worn off, Wanda eventually managed to get up so that she could shower and also prepare herself for this new day as well. And a short while later, upon coming out of her bedroom into the modestly-sized interior area of her apartment, Wanda entered with a full length, vintage-cut satin robe now wrapped around her, which came in a dark navy color. Once she was inside of her small living room, Wanda was quickly welcomed in by the sights and sounds from the television currently recapping the day's top headlines so far.

But, the TV wasn't the only thing in there waiting to greet her.

"Mornin', sis." Was the informal salutation tossed to Wanda by her twin brother Pietro Maximoff, who was sitting on the sofa watching TV and was already fully-dressed, now decked out in a cream and tan-striped, long-sleeved crewneck sweater, khaki trousers, a pair of casual brown oxfords, and without a single white hair on the top of his head out of place.

"You're up pretty early." Wanda replied, as she walked over behind the sofa into the small kitchen/dinette area to pour herself a cup of coffee, and to satisfy the intense caffeine craving that she was currently coping with.

"Couldn't really help it. What, with you and the 'goof-ball' over in your room goin' at it most of the night." Pietro candidly said to her, as he continued to watch the TV, while sipping on a cup of coffee of his own. Which, Wanda always remarked to him looked more like a cup of warm, coffee-colored milk and sugar masquerading in its place.

"What, were you spying on us or something?" Wanda now turned around to ask him, her tone relaying more than a hint of displeasure in it.

"Uhh, ick. You've gotta remember this place has pretty thin walls, and its easy to hear things." Pietro replied, as he looked back briefly over his shoulder at her, "Even, those things I definitely don't waannna hear, which all the pillows in my room being held over my head most of the night weren't able to drown out."

"Sorry, we'll try and keep it down next time." Wanda told him, as she came and sat on the arm of another nearby lounge chair, now with a blue and white mug in her hand.

"Me and my therapist say thank you." Pietro rolled his eyes and acridly responded, as he glanced over at her again, and then back at the TV.

"Well, if me and my nocturnal activities are really bothering you that much, you could always head back to Bayville and crash at the Brotherhood House?" Wanda teasingly said, as a guised smirk came to her face, "I'm sure they've still got your old room all empty and waiting for you."

"And I think you really have lost your mind this time, if you think I'm goin' back there!" Pietro loudly protested, as he nearly spat out some of his coffee in the process, "If listening to Todd's constant whining about Kurt stealing you away from him, as some kinda payback for him wrecking things between him and that Amanda-girl isn't bad enough, I'm sure as hell not staying there as long as they're letting that fire-nut Pyro live there!"

All Wanda could do was sit there and silently smile in response to her brother's mini-tirade. Many of the things that he had just mentioned had also been some of the motivating factors behind her own decision to move out of the Brotherhood House, and to eventually move to New York City. This was following Wanda having had come into some quick and easy money at a most opportune juncture in her life during a trip to Atlantic City, the complete details of which she had yet to fully share with Kurt.

But, just as they were about to continue with their conversation, Pietro and Wanda's attention were both drawn back to the TV, when they saw a news flash come across its screen. In it, the newscaster was talking about an NYPD officer, who had been injured the day before in the line of duty.

…_officer, who has been identified as Detective Misty Knight, was listed in stable condition after being severely injured when an explosive device reportedly went off. It happened while she was working desperately to free more than a dozen innocent civilians, who had all been taken hostage during a botched robbery of the First National Bank in Midtown, risking her own life and sacrificing herself in an attempt to disarm the bomb and make sure that they all escaped from the situation safely._

_A special fund has been set up on the detective's behalf, but it appears to now be a moot point. Billionaire industrialist and renowned philanthropist Anthony Stark, CEO of Stark International, has stepped in and offered to cover all of her operation and recovery-related expenses. Stark, as many of you may remember, was instrumental in last…_

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Me, Kurt, Kitty, and Rogue are going out later tonight after work. You're welcome to join us, and you can even bring someone along if you want." Wanda now said, as she invited Pietro to accompany them, while continuing to gingerly sit on the arm of her seat and balance the now half-full mug in her grasp.

"Thanks, but I've got other plans." Pietro replied, as he looked up and over at Wanda, briefly turning his attention away from the TV footage of the injured police detective being loaded onto a medical stretcher, which was then placed onto an air-life helicopter.

"So, do these plans include you seeing that Crystal girl again?" Wanda smirked a little and asked her brother, as she now pried to get the latest details of Pietro's love-life, while he finished off one of the two pop-tarts that had been sitting on a paper plate on the small coffee table in front of him.

"Not tonight." Pietro cockily smiled and replied, as he now put his cup down next to the remaining pop-tart in front of him, "But, since you brought her up, I just might give her a call.

Maybe, next week sometime?

If something happens to open up, that is."

Pietro then pulled a PDA device from out of his pocket and began using its day-planner function to look through, what was usually, a full and very active social calendar.

"I guess it's good you have all of that super-speed, else I don't think you'd be able to keep up with all those girls' you run through." Wanda now commented, as she sat at an angle close enough to Pietro to get a fleeting glance at his PDA.

"What can I say? The ladies' just can't get enough, and I'm always more than willing to accommodate." Pietro grinned and boastingly remarked, as he had just found an opening in his hectic schedule later next week.

But, Pietro was now left with the internal dilemma of trying to decide on whether or not he actually wanted to make that phone call, to see if Crystal was available for another date with him. And, if he wanted to deal with Crystal's self-appointed chaperone. Pietro presumed that if he took Crystal out, their date would also include her mammoth and most unusual-looking pet dog named Lockjaw, who would once again seemingly follow them absolutely everywhere that they went.

This, in spite of Quicksilver finally becoming tired of this unwanted third wheel when they were on their last date, where he wound up resorting to abruptly picking Crystal up into his arms and cradling her. Quicksilver then had he attempted to use his own mutant super-speed in a last-ditch effort to try and lose the overly-protective Lockjaw.

But it was to no avail, as Lockjaw had already been waiting on them, and long before Quciksilver had arrived there with Crystal in Central Park.

**…………………………………………………………**

Later on that evening, after any and all thoughts pertaining to school or work had been put to rest for the time-being at least, Wanda heard the sound of her doorbell ringing just as she was putting the final touches on her outfit for this evening.

"Coming…" Wanda called out from within her bedroom, which was located on the other side of her apartment.

Wanda now rushed out of her room and appeared in a form-fitting sleeveless bright orange-red top, which had a small circular opening right above the bust-line and a lengthy pixie-style hood attached to it from behind, and she also had on a pair of low-cut black pants that inter-weavingly laced up on the sides of her legs and hips to go with it. Wanda's ensemble was further accessorized by a pair of metal-studded, red and black arm-warmers, which also had a similar nylon-stitch lacing that ran up the length of them, and she finished tonight's look off with a pair of black, steel-toe work boots.

As Wanda quickly made her way over and through her living room, she was carefully affixing a pair of earrings to her lower lobes, which were in the shape of miniature Celtic pentagrams and matched exactly with the larger pewter-colored Celtic pendant dangling down from a leather neckstrap now fastened around her neck. When Wanda opened her front door, she was immediately met by the sight of only two of the three people that she had been expecting to see standing there.

"Where's Kitty?" Wanda now asked, as she spun back around and headed back into her apartment to finish getting ready, after motioning with a simple body-gesture for Kurt and Rogue to follow her inside.

"She decided to stay in tonight, so she could study for some big exam she's got comin' up next week." Rogue replied, as she came in alongside Kurt and they both went over to take a seat on the living room sofa, "Ah swear, sometimes Ah think that girl's gonna end up studyin' her head off."

"I guess she just has a different idea of fun than the rest of us." Kurt humorously added, referring to all of the extra work and effort that Kitty had been putting in as of late, with regards to her academic pursuits.

"That's for sure." Rogue now sighed, as she propped her right arm up on the sofa's arm-rest and relaxed her face up against her bare palm, using her other ungloved hand to shift her auburn and white-streaked hair from in front of her face in the process, better displaying the heavy Goth make-up that she usually wore.

"That's a pretty hot outfit you've got on Rogue." Wanda now complimented Rogue, as she once again came back out of her bedroom, and did so for the final time this evening.

"Thanks. Ah fell in love when Ah first saw it, but Ah wasn't really sure about it when Ah was puttin' it on tonight, though." Rogue modestly responded, as she stood back up and, both to display her outfit to Wanda, and to give it one more visual going-over for her own benefit.

Since she and Wanda usually had very similar tastes in clothing, Rogue respected and trusted the opinion of her brother's girlfriend with regards to fashion. But, before leaving their house earlier, Rogue had really given serious thought to her own self-reservations regarding this outfit that she had on, and to a certain degree, concerns that she still had.

Her outfit consisted of a revealing black leather corset top, which had black and silver viola brocade mesh centers in front and back. In addition, it also had two wide leather ribbon-straps that draped across each of Rogue's shoulders. And this corset top, along with the short and side-slitted black leather mini-skirt that Rogue had on, clung to her body's every contour, and her outfit even managed to leave a bit of her lower midriff partially exposed.

But this fairly provocative ensemble that Rogue had on, which also included a pair of black closed-toe platform clogs with very thick soles on them, was sans any gloves, as evidenced by the sight of the black nail-polish on the fingernails of both of her bare hands. And it further begged the question of why this girl, whose mutant powers were capable of draining the very life of another merely through direct skin-to-skin contact with them, would wear such an un-conservative outfit like this that wound up exposing a lot of her skin, and potentially put those around her at such considerable risk?

The answer, however, could be found with a quick look to Rogue's left arm, coming in the form of a black watch-shaped device that was strapped onto her wrist. Upon casual glance, the watch didn't look all too dissimilar from the one that her brother Kurt wore most of the time around his own wrist, which concealed its image-inducing function. But, Rogue's armband accessory, which had been built and given to her by the mutant inventive genius named Forge, served a far different function.

This device, which operated on a specific wavelength with Rogue's subconscious mind, interacted with the portion of her brain that governed her mutant abilities and thus granted her the control over her powers that she had long sought after. The hope was that as time passed, Rogue's mind would become accustomed to the effects of this power regulator and that she would eventually learn how to manage her powers on her own, without the aid of this small contraption.

"Ah like your outfit too. Is that somethin' from outta your shop?" Rogue now asked Wanda, as she sat back down on the sofa next to Kurt, while Wanda came over to stand in front of them.

"Yeah, we just got some new stuff in the other day. Come by some time, me and Pietro'll show you the rest of the new inventory. I think I saw a few things you'd really like too." Wanda replied, as she had grabbed her black studded rectangular handbag while in her bedroom, and now communicated to them through her stance that she was at last ready to depart.

"You know, I think I look pretty too." Kurt smirked and wise-crackingly added, as he had been sitting crouched up on the sofa, silently listening to the two girls' go on about their own attire, and now subtlely relayed to them his perception of feeling a bit left out.

"Yes you do, 'fuzzy-man'." Wanda without hesitation responded, as she came over and bent down to give Kurt a kiss on the side of his face.

While Wanda gave Kurt this kiss to emphasize just how 'pretty' she thought that he was, she also gave a quick look-over to the long-sleeved, chic and close-fitting crewneck polo sweater that he had on. Kurt's sweater had alternating blue and black horizontal stripes on it, and along with it he also had on a pair of stone-washed jeans and a pair of black hiking boots. As Kurt stood up from the sofa alongside Rogue, he reached for the watch on his left wrist to reactivate its image-inducing features, which he had turned off after coming into the secluded confines of his girlfriend's apartment.

And with that Kurt, Rogue, and Wanda were soon off, as these three individuals headed downstairs to exit the apartment building. They then made their way down the block towards a nearby subway terminal, which would eventually shuttle them northward across the Harlem River and into the heart of the Bronx section of New York.

**……………………………………………..…………………..**

With evening having by this time turned to night, the springtime air now began to carry with it a slight chill in it, as Rogue, Kurt, and Wanda made their way up a city sidewalk on this street in one of the city's warehouse districts, heading towards a nightclub called The Altered Arcadian.

The Altered Arcadian had at one time been one of many abandoned warehouses in this area, until it was purchased and completely renovated a few years. In that time since, this club had earned itself something of a fairly prominent reputation as a premiere local hotspot, with a handful of top DJ's from all over New York City having had journeyed here at one point or another, so that they could spin a set and try to get the crowd going.

After Kurt had paid a hefty cover charge at the front door of the club, which was something that neither Rogue nor Wanda had to worry about, and then after passing through a check by metal detector wands before being granted entry, which all of them did have to submit to, the trio finally managed to find their way inside.

As expected, the club on this Friday night was packed and the spacious, central dance-floor was brimming with individuals' dancing or otherwise gyrating to the rhythmic beats reverberating throughout. At the moment it was the light drum 'n bass of Ils' Razorblade booming out of the club's sound-system, as the DJ currently on the turn-tables was a practitioner of house, trance, and a few other sub-sets that fell under the category of electronica music.

While Rogue and Wanda stood close to one of the club's exterior walls and attempted to get an overall feel for the club's current ambiance, Kurt's attention was instantly drawn to the dance-floor by a set of fast moving neon-lights.

"Cool, I have got to get a pair of those!" Kurt said to Wanda and Rogue, as he was captivated by one of the individuals out on the dance-floor, who had a pair of fluorescent glowing sticks in both hands that were each only about an inch or two in length, and who was spinning them all about in the air at a steady speed while dancing very smoothly and fluidly at the same time.

"Uh-oh, it's somethin' bright and/or shiny. Better watch out, 'cause Kurt's about to go all cuckoo for cocoa puffs on us." Rogue smiled and sarcastically remarked, as she looked at Kurt and verbally noted his previous behavior, which she had observed from her brother when he got that glazed over look in his eyes, like the one he was exhibiting right now.

"I'm going to go see if I can find out who is selling them." Kurt now turned and said to both of the ladies in his company, "Do you want any?"

"Ah'll pass." Rogue replied first, as she folded her arms over in front of her and shrugged her shoulders once.

"Go ahead and knock yourself out, babe. We'll be satisfied just watching you play with your new toy here, when you get back." Wanda also smiled and said to Kurt, shaking her head to relay to him that she didn't want any glow-sticks either, all the while her attention continued to be more focused on their surrounding environment as a whole.

With that, Kurt happily trotted off through the heavy crowd in a direction towards the other side of the club, while Rogue and Wanda remained behind to survey things. As they stood there, Rogue then leaned her back up against one of the club's huge cinder-blocked walls that lay right behind her, while Wanda was close by and just a few feet away from the dance floor's periphery, with other party-goers passing by in front and behind her.

Wanda couldn't help but think to herself that, a little more than a year ago, she would've laughed in the face of anyone who would've told her that she'd have been caught-dead out in a place like this, and that she would actually be in here trying to enjoy herself and have a good time to boot. But, mostly gone now were those fiercely anti-social tendencies, which Wanda had fervently exhibited immediately following her arrival in Bayville. And, she knew in her heart that it was Kurt's lovable and easy-going influence that was primarily responsible for such a radical change in her. And Wanda fully intended to show Kurt her appreciation tonight by joining him, and his new glow-sticks, out on the dance floor when he returned.

And perhaps, by even giving them a twirl or two herself?

But, none of this would happen, at least not before some of the 'old' Wanda would be forced to come out and make a brief, cameo appearance this evening.

"Ladies, you both look like you could use a little somethin' to help get you rollin' tonight."

At hearing this voice addressing them, Wanda turned around and Rogue looked up to see a guy, whom they had never met before, now standing there with them. He looked to be in his mid-to-late twenties and had come up to them dressed in a black and khaki short-sleeved work-style shirt, along with a pair of black baggie work pants. As he held his hand a little ways out from his body, hidden inside of his closed palm were a couple of tiny baggies, which he turned over while opening his hand ever so slightly to show the girls' and give them a quick glimpse of what it was that he was holding.

Rogue and Wanda immediately recognized that the tablets inside of the plastic-baggies, which were each in the shape of various cartoon characters to be E, better known as Ecstasy.

"Only thing that's gonna get rollin' around here is your fat-head across the floor, if you don't get that crap away from me!" Rogue vehemently and vocally replied, as she flashed him a dirty look and made her feelings on the subject crystal-clear for this guy.

"Suurre. What about you baby, you ready to start trippin' this night off on the right foot?" The guy now abruptly turned and asked Wanda.

"First off, I'm not your baby! And second she's already told you we're not interested, in you, or in what you're selling!" Wanda firmly added, as she gave this guy her coldest and most disinterested glare.

Wanda and Rogue both had extensive experience in having to deal with guys' like this, especially pushy ones out in a club setting. Their main objective of the night seemed to be trying to get into their pants, usually by offering them something that would make them lose their inner-inhibitions and let down their guard by getting them drunk, high, or worse.

Which in and of itself was a tricky and ambiguous proposition for anyone, but most assuredly for those individuals who had the added burden of worrying about keeping their mutant powers in check. Powers, which could accidentally kill someone with just a single-touch if not careful, or that could inadvertently alter the laws of probability and reality around them.

But in Wanda's case, she also had other, far more personal reasons for having such a strong hostility about drugs. All one had to do was consider the fact that she had spent the majority of her formative years locked away inside of a mental institution. And during her lengthy stay there, Wanda had spent most of that time forcibly doped up by the doctors and staff to keep her thoughts muddled, and to make sure that the mutant-witch in their care remained submissive and docile.

With that in mind, the absolutely last thing that Wanda ever wanted to feel in her life again was that sickeningly numbing effect, that complete loss of control over herself and of her awareness of the outside world, which so many others intentionally sought out through the use of these various types of narcotics.

So, for Wanda it was beyond even being a no-brainer, as she now turned her attention away from the drug-dealer, rebuffing him completely as she looked back out onto the dance floor and cast her gaze out there to try and see if she could spot Kurt coming back to her yet?

"What's up with you gloomy goth dykes, anyways? You forget about the love and unity that's supposed to be goin' on in here?" The guy replied to them, and this time did so in a most insulting and disparaging manner.

"**Girl, why don't you go ahead 'n get your camera-phone out, 'cause Ah'm 'bout ready to happy-slap the shit outta this jackass**!" Rogue loudly shouted out to Wanda, while balling her right hand up into a tight fist, as she threateningly stalked off in this guy's direction in response to his name-calling.

But, just as Rogue was about to turn loose 128 pounds of blinding violence on this butt-brain, Wanda made a diagonal side-step right into her path.

"C'mon Rogue, he's not even worth it." Wanda calmly said, as she had managed to grab a hold of Rogue by her arm at the last second, and was now holding the slightly shorter Southerner back.

Rogue simply looked over at Wanda, then closed her eyes and let out a deep, resignatory sigh before she acquiesced. And, the very fact that it was Wanda who had been the one to maintain the cool and level-head in this situation, spoke volumes in regards to the personal progress that she herself had made.

"What's…going on?" Was the next question being posed to them, as Kurt finally made his return with two glow-sticks now in hand.

"Nothin' that a good ass-whippin' cain't fix!" Rogue sharply answered Kurt, as she by now had calmed down just enough that Wanda had released her grasp on her arm, but was far from being totally copasetic.

Kurt's generally bouncy demeanor also took a sharp nosedive, when he saw that Rogue and Wanda both appeared to be extremely agitated about something, with Rogue being noticeably more upset. And, as Rogue's reaction made it clear that she had yet to completely regain her full composure, Kurt now realized that something, or someone, had managed to push just the right buttons to set off his sister's rarely seen, but extraordinarily fiery temper.

"Let me go and buy you a soda or something, and we can go somewhere and talk about it, okay?" Kurt offered in a soothing tone, as he came over and put his arm around Rogue and tried to simmer her down with words of his own. But, what Kurt really wanted was to get his sister away from, whoever this guy was, who had gotten her so incensed.

And just as Kurt had managed to convince Rogue to come on with him, the other guy just couldn't leave well enough alone and felt the need to throw some more fuel onto the fire, by delivering one last parting repartee to the them.

"You might as well forget it and save your money, 'little man'. These two are more interested in checkin' each other out over here in the dark, than in gettin' out there and havin' a good time." The guy snidely insinuated, which caused Rogue's hot Southern temper to now shoot into overload, as Kurt now had to hold her back with both arms this time, just to keep Rogue from running over at him.

Wanda, however, was still the picture of tranquility, as she stood close by and passively witnessed this latest exchange. But with that said, it certainly didn't stop her from thinking up a creative response of her own.

"Is that so?" Wanda said, as she finally acknowledged the guy that had been hassling them, and spoke in regards to his false assumptions regarding the nature of her and Rogue's relationship.

Then, a huge smile came to Wanda's face, as she turned around and began to walk over to where Kurt and Rogue were standing. Wanda slowly sauntered up to them, approaching in a manner that alluded to her now having something up her sleeve.

"Forgive me if I am starting to sound like a scratched CD, but would one of you please tell me what, exactly, is going on?" Kurt once again asked, as he was trying to figure out why he was having to physically restrain Rogue from taking some jerk's head off, while his girlfriend at the same time now had a peculiarly chipper expression on her face.

"Don't worry about it." Wanda now said to them both, as she took Kurt by one hand, and Rogue by the other, "Why don't the both of you just come with me?"

Wanda then led them out onto the dance floor, with the trio having to pass through the considerable throng of other party-goers in this crowded club. Once they were up on the slightly elevated dance floor in its center, Wanda spoke again to Kurt and Rogue.

"Kurt, you go ahead and do your thing with those glow-sticks. Rogue, I just want you to follow my lead, and we'll show that asshole over there that us 'goth-girls' know how to have a good time too." Wanda said in a staid tone, and with a mischievous smirk present on her face.

Back when Kurt and Wanda had first begun talking, and later started dating, Kurt soon came to realize that the better he got to know Wanda, the more he began to notice that she seemed to share a number of similar personality traits with his sister. They were things, which went far beyond any superficial wardrobe or cosmetic resemblances that the two girls' might have had in common.

For example, Kurt had observed that both girls' could have a deliciously wicked and downright naughty sense of humor, when they wanted to. Which, Rogue and Wanda managed to keep camouflaged most of the time underneath their general facades of detachment, and seemed only to display it on those rarest of occasions.

Or, when they really wanted to get back and get even with somebody.

"Let's dance, shall we?" Rogue verbally proposed, as she had immediately caught on to what Wanda had meant, and now returned a grin on her face in kind.

As the DJ spun an extended remix of Oakenfold's hypnotically-entrancing Faster Kill Pussycat inside the club, Wanda took Rogue by the hand, holding it up in the air in a somewhat formal fashion as the two ladies let the music take control. They began to dance with their hips swaying rhythmically to the beat, as their individual movements began to blend together into a harmonious consensus, while at the same time remaining carefree and loose.

Then, Rogue and Wanda's movements became slightly more suggestive, as their syncopated steps kept in pace with the pulse of the music playing. The two girls' then gradually slid up very close to one another on the dance floor, as they maintained their synchronized and tantalizingly provocative groove together. Allowing their inhibitions to relax a little in the process, Rogue and Wanda were decidedly intent on showing the guy, who had offered them his illegal pick-me-ups', that they were capable of doing just as well without them.

And at the same time, Rogue and Wanda had managed to grab the attention of a few of the other club-goers, particularly the male ones' now attentively watching them, and none more so than the one who was standing right beside them. Kurt had been busily working with the glow-sticks that he had bought, trying his best to mimic exactly the figure-eight movements of the other dancer whom he had observed when they had first arrived at the club tonight. But, upon seeing his girlfriend and his sister engaged in this eye-catching exhibition, Kurt's efforts came to a screeching halt, and he wound up unceremoniously dropping his glow-sticks onto the dance floor.

Which wasn't that big of a deal, as Wanda immediately came over and knelt down to pick them up for Kurt. Wanda then coyly sidled over to him, so she could get her boyfriend in on their act as she now began to dance very closely with Kurt, slowly and seductively grinding up against him in an arousing manner. Having made a promise to herself earlier in the evening that she would show Kurt just how much of an effect he had had on her, Wanda now delivered her own special brand of appreciation to the love of her life. It was for Kurt's role in helping her to rediscover and open up that vulnerable side of herself, which Wanda had thought to have long since been lost and buried, and how he had helped to show her how to love and enjoy life again.

And, it was an unmistakable fact now being relayed to Kurt from Wanda as they danced together in each other's secure embrace, with Wanda's body now pressed up snugly against his and with her arms comfortably draped up around Kurt's shoulders', along with the aforementioned glow-sticks firmly in each of her hands.

Meanwhile, Rogue remained a little ways away from the happy couple and continued with her solitary tango, as she showed off some of her own sultry moves for the on-looking club goers. Moves, which Rogue had at one time 'borrowed' from Kitty and that had remained surprisingly fresh in her mind, even after all of this time.

**……………………………………………………………………**

Hours later, after they had danced most of the night away, an exhausted Rogue, Kurt, and Wanda all emerged from within The Altered Arcadian. Coming out onto the street outside of the club, this jovial trio saw that this New York Ave was still partially teeming with life and activity, despite this early hour of the morning.

But, such was the reality of living in the city that never sleeps.

"I hope we didn't freak you out too bad with our little performance back there?" Wanda playfully said to Kurt, as they affectionately exited the club side-by-side, and with their hands' tightly clasped together.

"You know me, I'm the type of guy who knows how to roll with the punches." Kurt smiled and replied, as they stopped on the sidewalk and he now put his left arm around Wanda's waist while talking to her, "But, just try not make a habit out of it. Or else, people might begin to think that the three of us have some kind of weird, Jerry Springer-thing going."

"So, gang, where are we off to now?" Wanda now asked of them, first looking at Kurt beside her, and then over at Rogue in front of them.

"How about we stop off somewhere and get somethin' to eat, before we head back home?" Rogue suggested, as she stood on the sidewalk a feet from the curb and looked back at Kurt and Wanda.

"Okay. Any ideas where?" Wanda replied, and further inquired of them.

"You already know my vote." Kurt smirkingly said to both girls'.

"Oh, alright, we can stop off at Gut Bomb's. And, I'll even treat." Wanda conceded, as she giggled and approvingly shook her head. She and Kurt then came away from the club's entrance over to where Rogue was, so that the three of them could head up the street and catch the subway heading back south.

But, just as they were about to turn and make their departure, something down at the other end of the block suddenly and unexpectedly caught Rogue's attention from out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey Kurt…take a gander down there and tell me if Ah'm seein' things?" Rogue now asked him, as Kurt's dark-hued pupils, courtesy of his image-inducer, trailed Rogue's pointing finger down to the end of the block.

Standing down there was another girl in her teens, one who didn't appear to be much younger than any of them. And, one who also looked strikingly familiar, especially to Rogue and Kurt.

"Okay, what about her?" Kurt asked, unsure of why Rogue was pointing her out to them.

"Don't that look like that X-23 gal we had a run-in with awhile back?" Rogue further asked Kurt as they, along with Wanda, all focused their collective sight upon the girl in an attempt to try and obtain a conclusive identification of her.

While Wanda had never actually met her and had only heard about her through second-hand recounts, Rogue and Kurt were all too-familiar with X-23, the girl who had been cloned by HYDRA from their elder mentor Logan. And, Rogue and Kurt very much remembered the girl who had taken it upon herself to break into the X-Mansion, back when they were both still residents there, where she then proceeded to attack and man-handle them, along with their X-Men teammates' and the rest of the students' there. It was a fight that neither would forget any time soon, particularly Rogue, who made it a point to commit to memory those choice throw-downs that she had been involved in, even though they had been on the losing end in this instance.

But this girl, who was standing down on the corner at the end of this block, certainly wasn't wearing the black and gray military-style suit and jacket combo that Kurt and Rogue had last seen X-23 sporting.

Instead, she was now dressed in a skimpy plum-colored, push-up bikini bra-top, along with an even skimpier plum mini-skirt. This girl was also wearing a gaudy pair of black fishnet stockings, with black knee-high stiletto boots, and she had on a black leather short-waist jacket with numerous zippers across it, which was left unzipped in the front and had a studded strap and buckle that hung unhooked down on each side of its retrenched waist-line.

Upon closer inspection, Kurt and Rogue came to the conclusion that this girl definitely favored X-23 an awful lot, only that now her hair was a darker shade of brunette and her physical features looked a little older and more mature as well. While Kurt and Rogue checked her out from a distance, X-23 in the meantime simply stood there with both of her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, as she turned her gaze for a split-second back up the street towards these three onlookers.

A fairly bewildered look now became plainly evident on both Kurt and Rogue's faces, upon realizing that this really might be her and that she had spotted them. They instinctively steeled themselves, doing so in full expectation of X-23 launching into one of her aggressive attacks against them, which they knew could then quickly escalate into a very violent confrontation. But instead, they were greeted by a reaction from X-23 that was nothing of the sort.

Beneath X-23's overly-abundant make-up and excessive mascara, she now wore a cold and totally vacant expression on her face. She seemed to be completely void of any emotional reaction at all, one way or the other, to seeing these individuals up the block, who were a mere sprint up the sidewalk from the New York City street-corner that she was currently occupying.

Then, just as quickly as they had spotted X-23, her attention was promptly drawn to a vintage, lime-colored Cadillac that came from out of nowhere, and pulled up to the curb right in front of her. As a helping hand from inside of the car reached over to open the large sedan's passenger-side door, this girl who looked like X-23 got into it, and did so without so much as giving a second-glance to the trio back up the street. This made Rogue and Kurt particularly skeptical as to whether this really was her or not, as they watched this flamboyantly painted and customized car, with license plates' that read 'Big Z', peel out and make its rapid departure from this Bronx neighborhood.

Which Rogue, Kurt, and Wanda also did, as they now turned in the opposite direction, so that they could make their way up the block and head back home themselves. But, despite whatever doubts they may have had about who it actually was that they had just seen here tonight, it would not stop them from making a quick phone call to the Xavier Institute back in Bayville the next day.

Which, without question, ensured that one undeniably stubborn and determined resident from the Institute would come to the Bronx, so that he could come and personally scour the entire area. And that he wouldn't leave, not until he had verified for himself, beyond any shadow of a doubt, just who this girl was?

**……………………………………………………………**

Next Chapter: **The hunt for X-23 and the truth**! **But, is Logan prepared for what he may find**?


	4. Sex As A Weapon

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 4- Sex as a Weapon

Night after night, and for the better part of a week now, Logan had spent that time driving up and down block after block in the Bronx and Upper Manhattan areas of New York City, doing so until the wee hours of each morning. The reason for his becoming engaged in such a prolonged endeavor was a desperate attempt on his part to locate the young mutant known only as X-23, whom had been purportedly spotted in the area by two of the Xavier Institute's former students.

And, whom Logan feared was now also in a desperate situation herself.

_(Flashback- Earlier in the week, after a ringing phone at the Xavier Institute had just been answered moment's prior…)_

"Yeah." Was the somewhat gruff greeting given to the party on the other end of the phone line, as Logan stood in a hallway near the mansion's front foyer area and spoke into the cordless phone's receiver.

"And a happy hello to you too." Was the obviously and intentionally sarcastic response immediately shot back by said party, who had called the Institute on this afternoon.

"You'd be a little less than chipper too, Rogue-darlin', if you'd spent ten-plus hours on a cramped plane, stuck next to a kid who couldn't keep still more than five seconds at a time. Annndd havin' to listen to his mother, who thought it was her duty to give us a runnin' commentary the entire flight on why she thought things didn't work out between her and the kid's old man, instead of her usin' that effort to tell her kid to quit runnin' up and down the damn aisle and sit the hell down!" Logan abrasively rattled off, and did so specifically for Rogue's benefit, having instantly recognized her distinct southern-twanged voice on the line with him, "Anyways, Jubilee just came and got me, said somethin' about you needin' to leave a message here for me?"

"Well, that's because Ah had actually thought you were still off over in Japan." Rogue replied, referring to Logan's recent trip out of the country.

"Just flew back in this mornin'." Logan confirmed for her, "And, you caught me at a good time too, 'cause I was just on my way out the door."

"You just got back, and you're already rushin' off again? Ah guess you really are tryin' to rack up those frequent-flyer miles, aren't you?" Rogue jokingly remarked to him, as Logan then heard another, also distinctive, voice talking in the background behind Rogue.

"Tell 'Half-Pint' I said Hi." Logan now told Rogue, as he had heard Kitty Pryde shouting out something to Rogue and her other roommates', presumably from up at the top of the staircase in their Manhattan townhouse not too far from the campus of ESU, "I'll probably be swingin' by your way later on this week, so I can catch up on things with all o' you."

"Actually, that's kinda why Ah was callin' you." Rogue replied, as she now got to the point of her phone call, "Last night, me, Kurt, and Wanda went out to a club up in the Bronx. When we came back out later, we saw a girl standin' out there that looked a lot like X-23."

As if hearing this news that X-23 had suddenly and unexpectedly turned back up after all of this time hadn't been startling enough for Logan, the fact that she had chosen New York City of all places to resurface had him extremely curious as to her reasons why? Especially, since he had gone to considerable lengths to secretly withhold the knowledge that X-23 had actually survived the destruction of HYDRA's mothership, all in an effort to keep the heat off of her from those after her.

"What do you mean, she was standin' out there?" Logan slowly articulated and further questioned Rogue.

"Exactly like Ah said. She was just standin' out there, on the corner down at the end of the block." Rogue clarified for him, as she switched her own cordless phone receiver from one hand over to the other side, "And the way she was dressed and actin', she kinda looked like a prostitute."

"I hate to say it darlin', but with some o' the outfits I see you girls' runnin' around in, they could accuse ol' Chuck here of runnin' some sorta underage cat-house. If, folks were just gonna go 'n judge offa appearances only, that is." Logan jestfully commented to Rogue, raising one of his eyebrows as he relayed his opinion to her through his own unabashedly frank way of stating things, which in turn led Rogue to reconsider her own statement and her next response a little.

"Uh-huh. Well, you also don't see none of us gals' standin' out on street corners 'til two in the morning, just waitin' there so's we can be picked up by our pimp's drivin' around in their loud-ass-green Caddy's either!" Rogue unapologetically huffed and further explained, now providing more evidence to Logan to support her own suspicions.

"Hmmph." Logan grumbled, as he stood in a contemplative stance with the phone receiver in one hand up by his ear, taking a brief moment to now earnestly process what it was that Rogue was telling him, before he gave her his next response.

"Alright, 'Stripes', I hear ya. I'll take a look into it then." Logan finally told Rogue, his tone now far more serious, as he then pushed the 'end' button on the cordless phone to disconnect the call.

Logan then continued standing there in the small anterior hallway, the phone still gently grasped in his hand and now sort of hanging there down by his side. On his face, Logan wore a pensive expression that relayed the anxious feelings now swirling about inside of him, at him having heard what Rogue suspected about X-23's current state of affairs.

And, at the thought that what she was saying just might be true?

**…………………………………………………………**

_(Back in the present…)_

As Logan made his way through this large cross-section of New York City, doing so in a navy-blue SUV procured from the Xavier Institute's garage back in Bayville, he had been busily combing the area and keeping his sharply-keen eyes peeled for any signs of X-23.

Over the past week, Logan had also kept his ear close to the ground for info that might aid him in his search. Logan had even gone so far as to ask around in these various neighborhoods' to find out if anyone had seen the girl in question. He had hoped to jog someone's memory by showing them a photo of X-23, which had been captured from the mansion's surveillance footage.

But, it was all to no avail.

And Logan was slowly coming to terms with the fact that in a city of this size, where a person who didn't want to be found could easily disappear for good, that his quest may ultimately wind up being in vain. So, it was to that end that Logan decided to take one last chance, before he completely threw in the towel and called it quits. He now found himself returning once again to the Bronx, and to the very same area where Rogue had said that she Kurt, and Wanda had originally seen X-23 a week ago on this night. Or, where they had seen a girl who looked an awful lot like X-23 at any rate. But after driving up and down a number of blocks in this neighborhood, for what now seemed like the one-hundredth time to him, Logan had still yet to turn up anything.

Then, he hit jackpot.

Down on the corner at the end of this particular street, which was just a couple of blocks over from the club where Rogue had reportedly seen X-23, Logan was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a girl whom he also thought fit her description. Pulling up slowly to the curb on this dimly-lit street in an inconspicuous fashion, which he hoped wouldn't draw her attention to him, Logan went and put the SUV in park before proceeding to step out of the vehicle. He then skulkingly made his way down the sidewalk, and in a few brief moments, he was mere feet away from this dainty and defenseless-appearing girl.

Logan knew all too well that looks could be deceiving, however, and that in X-23's case it was a visual farce that had been purposefully crafted to provide her with such an illusion. But as he got closer to her, Logan was now able to positively confirm for himself that this really was X-23, a conclusion that he reached both from recognizing her familiar scent, and by looking at her other physical features.

Features that, while still familiar to him, had also changed a lot since the last time he had seen her more than a year ago. Which, was only to be expected from a girl of her age, as she continued to grow and mature into womanhood. But, what really caught Logan's attention (and garnered a fair amount of dismay from him) was the fact that X-23 was wearing a tremendous amount of mascara, eye-shadow, lipstick, and makeup on her face, that she had her lengthy and stylized jet-black hair hanging down unrestrained right above her shoulders, and that she was standing there dressed in a tight and skimpy black tank-top, which had spaghetti straps across both shoulders, and had its bottom-hem cut up high enough that it completely revealed her mid-riff region.

X-23 also had on a tight black leather mini-skirt, which along with her aforementioned top, her well proportioned figure managed to fill out very easily. And, her somewhat indiscreet look was finished off by a pair of fencenet-web arm warmers on both of X-23's arms, a pair of black fishnet stockings, a pair of side-zip black knee-high stiletto boots, and a small black purse whose strap she had slung over her left shoulder.

But, in addition to these striking and telltale changes in her appearance, Logan now noticed that there was something else about her he hadn't been prepared to see.

In X-23's right hand she was currently holding a lit cigarette, which she was calmly puffing on as she stood there in the darkened area at the end of the sidewalk. It seemed from her position that X-23 was deliberately making sure to remain far enough off to the side, as to keep out of the scant light now shining down from a nearby lamppost.

"Since when'd you start huffin' on those things?" Logan now came out of the shadows to inquire of her.

Which would've probably startled your average person from the abrupt and sudden manner in which it had been delivered, but Logan's words wound up having no such effect on the person to whom his comment had been directed.

"Suppose it's justha nasty little habit must've picked up from somewhere?" X-23 coolly replied with a slight slur in her voice, as she had pulled the pencil-thin cigarette away from her face, the filtered end of it now heavily smudged all around in a deep shade of black-cherry lipstick, and then blew out a small waft of smoke up into the nighttime air, "But then again, seeing as it's probably all genetic, I guess I can't help but like them. And, it's not like these things're gonna kill me anyways."

And with her last remark exuding pure sarcasm, which was also tinged with a bit of truth in it, X-23 briefly turned to look at this man speaking to her, whom she had detected coming towards her from what seemed like a mile away. X-23 had partially intended her statement to also be a commentary in reference to Logan's own habitual love of a good cigar, which he usually to partook of on a daily basis, if not more often than that. And, it was thanks to Logan's indulgence that X-23 had always been able to pick up on his unmistakable scent in their previous encounters, which she observed was regularly co-mingled with a heavy residue left behind from second-hand cigar smoke on his person, and only served to more easily alert her to his presence through her own refined senses.

As he came up to her, X-23 gave Logan her own quick visual going-over, as she now took stock of the ensemble that he was wearing. An outfit, which consisted of his seemingly standard brown button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled part way up, a black t-shirt underneath it, and a pair of faded blue jeans with a pair of brown cowboy kicks. Logan also had on a tan-colored Stetson hat, which had a feathered Native American medallion in the front attached to a brown leather band going all around its brim.

"So 'X', you wanna tell me what it is you think you're doin' out here?" Logan now asked X-23, which was the name designation that she had gone by for as long as she could remember.

"Jus' waitin' for a ride." X-23 once again coldly replied, as she turned away from Logan and faced forward, placing her cigarette back in her mouth as she now cast her gaze out onto the mostly empty street in front of them, which wasn't much of a surprise at this early hour of the morning.

X-23's response only further served to confirm what Rogue had told Logan, as he knew that her excuse was perhaps one of the first and the oldest lines taught to those who were in, what was also perhaps, the world's oldest profession. And this realization made Logan feel just as guilty now, as ever, about his role in inspiring those scientists who had originally created X-23 and had given her life, a life which had seemingly been wracked with nothing but pain and misery ever since her inception.

In fact, after Logan's recent reunion with Colonel William Stryker and the rest of his Team-X colleagues' in Australia, where he had learned about their prior failure years' ago to prevent Donald Pierce from delivering the formula for the adamantium-bonding process to HYDRA in the first place, his guilt had only managed to increase that much more.

"You know, I'm not stupid. I know what it is you're really doin' out here." Logan calmly looked over to his right and said to X, as he was the one who now broke the brief silence that had walled-up between them with his matter-of-fact statement.

"Yeah. After your friends' saw me the other night, I figured sooner or later you'd be down here lookin' for me, jusso you could give me 'nother one of your lectures." X-23 replied in a cynical tone, as she continued standing there looking away from Logan and out onto the street.

"Well, the reason I came down here lookin' for you was because I thought we were friends too? I mean hell, you 'n me, we're probably all the family each of us've got." Logan replied, which wasn't quite the response she had been expecting from him, catching X-23 off-guard and causing her to pause once again before she responded.

"Told you beforecan't have any friennddsthor family for that matter." X-23 stumbled out to Logan, her voice now growing more embittered as she started slurring her words even more. And X-23's body mannerisms also became slightly more agitated and erratic in their movements, particularly with regards to the cigarette that she was now nervously fiddling with in between her fingers.

"You're dead-wrong on that, girl! We all need someone, folks to care about and who care about us." Logan said to X-23, as he made a move over towards her so that he could put a supportive arm around her. But, she wound up jerking her entire body away from him and his touch, before he got the opportunity.

"In that case, I must be fine. Because I meet all kinds of guys' every night, who justh can't wait to care about me." X-23 bitingly said to Logan, this time as she finally turned towards him directly and looked him in the face.

It was then that Logan got a good look at what Rogue and Kurt had seen the week before, with regards to what was being cast back at him. If Logan had thought X-23's outward appearance had undergone a profound change, then the look in her eyes now being reflected back at him was most definitely a radical departure from what he had seen from her before.

Gone from those dark-hued eyes was the fire and resentment that Logan had seen in them, back when he had first met X-23, only now to be replaced by an almost listless vacancy. And given her, at times, slurred speech and uncharacteristically low-key behavior tonight, and from what his own infallible senses had detected on her, Logan had a firm idea as to the reason why.

Logan was now positive, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that X-23 was high on something. Which was an accomplishment in and of itself, given the fact that to get a person high who was possessed with heightened immunity and an accelerated healing-factor, and to keep them that way for any significant amount of time, would take a substantial amount of drugs. In fact, Logan knew better than anyone that it would be an exceptionally and insanely vast quantity of narcotic substances needed to provide for such a long-lasting effect, and that in and of itself was indeed a frightening prospect even to him. For him to have to accept the undeniable fact that X-23 was now obviously strung-out on something, and that the drugs had probably been given to her by some john she had been with earlier in the evening, was something that Logan just couldn't get a handle on, just because of how much such a thought broke his heart.

"You're anything but fine, out here sellin' yourself like this!" Logan sternly told X-23, his tone rooted more in a disappointment in himself at not preventing her from coming to this point, than him actually being angry at her, "You got more value than that, darlin'."

"Yeah, I've got value all right. As a weapon. As a killer, whose services are auctioned off to the highest bidder." X-23 now told Logan, as she took a number of quick and deep drags from her cigarette to finish it off, before dropping it on the sidewalk's concrete and putting it out with the bottom of her boot, "When I hitched into town, I had no money and nowhere to go. Zebra Daddy took me in, and he took care of me. And with HYDRA, SHIELD, and whole buncha other agencies already lookin' to prostitute me for themselves, I had to keep a low-profile to make 'em think I really was dead. So, in the end, I guess joke's on them, huh?"

"Zebra Daddy? That the name o' the punk who's got you out here trickin' yourself like this?" Logan growled in a low-tone and austerely demanded to know from her, as he went to once again put his hand supportively up onto X-23's shoulder. Only, this time she didn't pull back away from him.

But, just as she was about to respond to Logan's fervent inquiry, like clockwork fate stepped in to give him an up close and personal answer instead. And judging by the twenty-inch chrome spinner-rims, the loudly flamboyant green paint job, and an even louder stereo-system blaring from inside of this clean and customized vintage Cadillac now pulling up to the curb in front of Logan and X-23, it appeared the ride that she had alluded to earlier had just arrived, albeit late as usual.

An individual then stepped out from the driver's side of this vehicle, which had license plates on it that read 'Big Z', and who was himself extremely curious about this guy now standing on the corner with the weird-looking hair cut. Especially, since Logan definitely didn't look like the high-priced, VIP client (read high-paying 'john' with an affinity for the masochistic), whom he had dropped his top-girl off to rendezvous with back at a local 'no-tell' hotel earlier in the evening, for their pre-set weekly date.

And, most especially since this guy who had his hands on her, also appeared to be standing there and verbally chastising her.

"**The hell you think you are _mamabicho_, hasslin' one o' Daddy's girls' like that**!" Zebra Daddy yelled, as he stepped out of the Cadillac dressed in a plum suit, which he wore with matching purple-toned shoes, a flashy and wide-brimmed plum fedora with a zebra-striped band around it, and a pair of medium-tinted shades, "You hear me, don't nobody put they hands on any of Daddy's bitches'! Unless, they payin' for it, that is."

As he was speaking to Logan very loudly, Zebra Daddy reached up to slowly pull a toothpick from out of his mouth, all the while maintaining a smug expression on his face as he simultaneously tossed a disapproving glance in Logan's direction.

"Look, 'Daddy', you and that zoot-suit hollerin' at me had better just climb back into that decked out ride o' yours, and keep it movin' along." Logan 'suggested' to him, and did so without the benefit of turning away from X-23 to face Zebra Daddy, "Before, things go 'n get ugly, and I wind up havin' to turn you into my bitch!"

"You the one who's gonna be ugly, when they find your corpse stinkin' up the place!" Zebra Daddy angrily shouted, as he responded to this challenge on his turf by instantly and instinctively reaching into the coat of his garish suit. He went for his piece and quickly drew out a grayish-black GLOCK-22 handgun from out of his concealed shoulder-holster, which he then aimed right at Logan.

But, just as instinctively, Logan reacted to this threat by going for his own weapon of choice. Not the razor-sharp claws housed in his forearms, rather, Logan used his lightning-fast reflexes to side-step Zebra Daddy and grab onto his arm, the one that he was holding the gun with. Before Zebra Daddy knew what had hit him, Logan had skillfully disarmed him, followed by him viciously snapping back and breaking Zebra Daddy's right arm, and then head-butting him with his own adamantium-laced skull all in one swooping motion.

Which, busted Zebra Daddy's nose wide-open and sent his blood splattering down onto the sidewalk and nearby curb, and knocked the self-styled pimp out cold.

"You didn't have to do that, I could've handled things myself." X-23 now said, as she took a few steps towards Logan and Zebra Daddy's unconscious, slumped-over form now sprawled out on the concrete before her, "I coulda done a whole lot worse than that to him, if I really wanted to.

"Of that, I got no doubts' at all, darlin'!" Logan said, as he smirkingly looked down at Zebra Daddy, and then over at X-23, "Even though knockin' out pushy pimps normally ain't on my daily to-do-list, this one's on the house."

"I don't know why you went and got involved in the first place? No one asked you to." X-23 now said, sighing as she folded her arms over in front of herself.

"Because, you ain't ever got to darlin'. Not when you're needin' my help." Logan told her, as he cocked his head to the side a little.

"Just leave, before you end up making things worse." X-23 replied, as she stood there facing away from Logan, closing her eyes as she took in another deep breath.

"Seems to me that things look as if they've gotten 'bout as bad as they can get for you." Logan pointed out to her, as he took a couple of steps over towards X-23.

"Like I said, I can take care of myself!" X-23 snapped at him in response, almost shouting at Logan in a somewhat defensive and unquestionably angry tone.

"And that's the problem right there. No kid your age should have to." Logan replied, his tone remaining steady and soothingly calm.

"Kid? **How the hell can you stand there and keep callin' me that, after everything I've seen and been through! I haven't been a kid in a long time, if ever**!" X-23 now yelled, as she suddenly became unglued and unloaded on Logan with an angry verbal tirade.

"I know what you've been through. Trust me, if anyone'd understand, it'd be me." Logan stood close by and reassuringly said to her.

"You don't know a damn thing about what it's like to be me! Just because we share some genes and an attraction to adamantium, doesn't mean our similarities automatically go past that." X-23 skeptically told Logan, as she continued with her abrasive diatribe.

"Well, I do know what it's like to wish you could just forget all the awful stuff you've done. All the things' other folks've forced you to do, and all the things' you did willingly. I know what it's like havin' to relive every job, every hit, every kill, whether they actually deserved it or not, over and over and over in yer head, and to see that look on their faces when they took their last breath, knowin' full-well all that blood is soaked in deep into your hands'. It's somethin' to have those memories do nothin' but keep you up nights' to no end." Logan told X-23, as he began to hit much too close to home for her with his statements, and hoped to show her just how much he 'got' and understood about her, "I also know what it's like to wake up in the mornin' and wish you hadn't. Wantin' nothin' more than a final way out, and realizin' we ain't allowed to get off that easy. I know what it's like to want nothin' but to dull that pain, that gnawin' guilt inside, and lookin' to find a way to numb it in whatever way you can."

Logan was of course referring to his own ways of dealing with what he had done in his past, after trying to leave his CIA and black-ops days' behind him. It was pain that he had tried to cope with by inflicting more of it onto himself in the form of nightly barroom brawls, followed by all-night drinking binges with prescription pills thrown into the mix.

And, Logan could see that X-23 had wound up trying to deal with the hurt she was carrying around inside in much the same fashion, although her weapons of choice had their own unique variations to them. Her release had come in the form of illicit drugs and cutting herself, the scars of which Logan could still see barely visible through the mesh material of the arm-warmers that X-23 had on. In addition, X-23 had taken to working the streets, both as a way to get by, but was also perhaps subconsciously letting herself be used and degraded in this manner as another means with which to hurt herself?

But, Logan knew that what X-23 needed more than anything was someone to come along and pull her back from the edge of that cold and dark abyss that was inside of herself, just as a young and unsuspecting newlywed couple had come along and done for him all the years' ago back up in the Canadian wilderness.

"See, you and me, we both know that killin' is the easy part. It's livin' with it that's tough." Logan continued, as X-23 had been standing there listening to him without uttering a word in response, "The only way you handle it is to face it head on, every day, one day at a time. And, by tryin' to find new purpose for your life by hopefully doin' some real good in the world, that'll at least try to balance out those scales."

Whether it was the fact that Logan was finally getting through to her, or if it was just the physical side-effects of X-23's mutant healing-factor slamming her down hard off of her drug-induced high as it purged those toxins from her system, X-23's emotional state quickly became very sullen. Depression swiftly set in, as those painful memories that she had been trying to bury now came back to her with a vengeance. And as Logan had intimidated moments ago, X-23 knew all too well that there was no truly forgetting what she had done, every brutal act, every horror visited upon those hundreds of various targets worldwide.

Even though she had been brainwashed and forced at the bequest of Madame Hydra to commit such appalling acts, X-23 had believed that things would've been different, that she would feel differently about herself, once she had concluded her vendetta against HYDRA by killing the Supreme HYDRA. But, X-23 was beyond disappointed when she realized that she still felt much the same about herself following Madame Hydra's death, as she had before. In fact, part of her still craved the excitement of the hunt, the thrill of the kill that came from pulling off those hit-job missions. And that made it all the more unbearable for X-23, to think of herself as not being an actual person, but as an animal that lived to prey off of those innocents around her.

That, she had in fact become a monster, just as her HYDRA masters' had hoped for.

Which was the reason behind why she had sought out such self-destructive behaviors. The irony being that X-23 had a body that was possessed of an ability to consistently heal itself, regardless of whatever injury inflicted upon it, but that neither it nor the drugs' could fix the part of her inside that needed mending the most.

"What's the matter?" Was the question now posed by Logan, when he saw X-23 suddenly break down and start crying. Like a fourteen year-old.

"I…I just wanna go home." X-23 looked down to the sidewalk and replied through her sobs.

'Going home' was a code-phrase from her training with HYDRA that was meant to signify that a mission had been completed, and that it was time for her extraction back to base. Which, was the only frame of reference X-23 really had to go by to say that she was ready to leave a particular situation, as she bottomed-out on this emotional ride of hers.

"Well, I've still got one for you, if you want it?" Logan now offered her, "Back at the Institute. That is, if you can stop hating me long enough to give it a shot."

"I don't hate you." X-23 replied in a soft and unequivocal tone, as she then looked up at Logan through her tear-stained and mascara-run eyes, "I thought about it for a long time after I crashed HYDRA's mothership and left you behind there. I'd been blaming you for what was wrong with my life before that, even though it wasn't really your fault. I'd figured out that it was actually Madame Hydra who was behind everything, so I thought that killing her would set things straight, but it didn't. I still didn't feel any different afterwards, and then I finally got it."

"Finally got what?" Logan curiously inquired, as he looked down at X, and she responded by turning her gaze away from him and back out onto the street in front of them.

"Who it was I really hated." X-23 replied to Logan, as she now slowly turned back to look up at him, "Me."

"Well, I don't hate you, and I don't see any reason why you should either." Logan now told her, as he put his arm up and draped it around her slightly shaking shoulders, "C'mon, let's just get outta here. We can figure out the rest later, you 'n me. Together."

X-23 now walked alongside Logan, as he led her back over to where he had his SUV parked by the curb a few yards away from them. X-23 then went around to the SUV's passenger side-door to get in, and did so without putting up any resistance or making any protests.

Perhaps, it was because she was now at a point in her life where she was actually ready to give Xavier's a chance. And even though she hadn't meant her statement, about going home, to be taken as a literal request, X-23 nonetheless was about to be taken to a new home and a new family, neither of which were anything that she had ever truly known before.

**……………………………………………….……………**

Next Chapter: **The Brotherhood…deconstructed**!


	5. Through The Fire

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 5- Through the Fire

-_Bayville, New York_

Located not too far from New York City, a phenomenon of sorts has taken place in this locale over the last few years, garnering this medium-sized city quite a bit of national attention in the process.

With just about all of it having to do with the subject of mutants.

Bayville, having become the inadvertent epicenter of the growing debate over mutants' and what their overall status and ultimate role in society should be, was now also having to contend with an unforeseen increase in the number of known mutants' amongst its general populace as a result. And, while it appeared that even mentioning anything to do with humans being born with super-human powers had become a topic that was bitterly divisive to its residents', managing to cross over every cultural line conceivable, it had also resulted in bringing some of those very same citizens' from both sides together, in ways most unexpected.

One need only look at the Brotherhood's current activities as a prime example of what strange bedfellows that uncertainty, and more importantly that sheer necessity, can make. Having earned quite a reputation from their infamous exploits, mainly by the thousands of dollars of damage that they had helped to cause to the city alone with their mutant powers, the Brotherhood of Bayville seemed to be tailor-made for a career specializing in destruction. And it was because of their skills and expertise in this particular area, which wound up helping to do just that.

When a local building contractor needed to have a rundown city-block in Bayville completely demolished to make way for new business renovations, he found himself short-handed for a crew to accomplish the task. Having secured this latest bid on very short notice, all of his usual workers had already been sent out on other jobs. The foreman then remembered reading about all of the damage that this so-called Brotherhood had caused to Bayville High and the rest of the area, having done so on more than one occasion. It had been reported on after the very existence of mutants' had first become public knowledge, and back during a brief period when the Brotherhood had gained brief popularity while touting themselves as heroes.

The foreman knew that he would certainly be taking a considerable risk by openly hiring out non-unionized workers, who also happened to be mutants, in such a manner. And doing so not in spite of their powers, but actually because of them. Still he was desperate, needing to get this job done ASAP, and this motivated him to go ahead and track the group down to their rundown boarding-house out at the edge of town, which upon initial sight he thought could probably stand to be knocked down itself. When they finally answered the door, the contractor introduced himself, explained his current predicament to them, and then offered them the job. He even proposed to pay them double what he normally did, if they were able to level the entire block in one day?

The members' of the Brotherhood immediately jumped at the chance and accepted, partially because it meant they got the opportunity to break stuff legally. But mostly it was because with Magneto and Mystique missing-in-action again, their cash flow had all but dried up. And thanks to their earned local notoriety as a group of incorrigible young hooligans, it also meant that their hopes of gaining employment anywhere else in Bayville was beyond bleak.

Thus, Brotherhood Demolitions was born, although they had briefly toyed with the idea of calling themselves The Bayville Wrecking Crew. Once they had successfully completed that first job, this band of outsider misfits' were then able to line up one demolition job after another, both in Bayville and around the lower-half of New York State, now having seemingly found their collective niche in life.

Following the departures' of Wanda and Pietro Maximoff for grayer pastures over in the concrete jungles of Manhattan, which was thanks mainly to Wanda having hit the jackpot during the Brotherhood's post-graduation celebration in Atlantic City, therefore giving her the means with which to go start her own business, Brotherhood Demolitions toiled forward, having by this time brought John Allerdyce into their fold. But, Pyro's addition to the Brotherhood had come in conjunction with the return of another former member back another into their ranks, albeit in more of an associate capacity this time around.

Going by the codename of Meltdown now, following a dramatic and substantial surge in her mutant powers, Tabitha Smith had found herself forced to venture back to the Xavier Institute for help. But, not desiring to be a full-time resident at the Institute, nor wanting to have to contend with its somewhat rigid rules, Tab and Professor Xavier had subsequently reached an amicable compromise. In exchange for his helping her to understand and master these new aspects of her powers, and also granting her unlimited use of the Institute's Danger Room whenever she felt the need, Tab agreed to remain on the X-Men's reserve roster in the event that one of those really special occasions arose, like when she had helped out previously against Apocalypse. Which, in turn left her free to follow other pursuits, such as her current vocational work.

Tab had been working with Brotherhood Demolitions now for the last few months, following an invite from Lance Alvers' to help pick up the slack resulting from Wanda and Pietro having moved away. After graduation, she too had found herself in a predicament similar to the Brotherhood's and to others' their age, with her own employment opportunities being severely limited at the moment.

While Tab's mother had come to stay with her daughter in Bayville to allow her to finish her junior and senior year at Bayville High, she had since returned to their hometown back in Virginia. But wanting to remain here in Bayville, where Amara and her other friends' were, Tab was now out on her own and had to worry about drumming up enough cash just to make rent, along with paying her other bills and expenses.

And for a free spirit like her, getting to use her powers to blow stuff up and not have to worry about trouble from the law was right up her alley, and certainly trumped flipping burgers or being stuck in a stuffy office or warehouse all day.

But at this very moment, Tab was now in the passenger-side seat of Lance Alvers' Jeep Wrangler sitting right beside him, as they currently pulled up in front of the Brotherhood House. They were driving in behind John's pickup truck, which Fred Dukes and Todd Tolensky were riding in the bed of, all of them having just returned from their latest leveling job.

And waiting to welcome them back was the Brotherhood's other 'souvenir' from their Atlantic City trip last year, as she was eagerly standing at the front door when they pulled up.

"Lancey-pooh! You're home!" Exclaimed a very attractive bleached-blonde from the front-door stoop, as she stood there wearing a tight, white-colored tube top and a pair of very short denim cutoffs, which generously displayed her Paris Hilton-esque build.

"Looks like someone's excited to see you. And I'm sure it probably took her most of the day just to string that special welcome-home together for you too." Tabitha sarcastically remarked about the young lady at the front door, as Lance now put the jeep into park. He then turned down the CD-player's volume in the jeep, which had been loudly blasting Poppin' My Collar by Three-Six Mafia when they pulled up into the front of the Brotherhood House.

"Don't start, alright." Lance looked over at her and merely sighed in response to Tab's verbal jab, as he sat there in his usual attire of a black t-shirt under a denim cut-out vest, faded-out jeans, and a pair of black gloves that he had cut the finger-holes out of.

After all, Lance felt that he had already been subjected to enough ridicule as it was from the rest of the Brotherhood over the young lady in question, whom herself was now making her way over to the jeep. The harassment towards Lance from his Brotherhood mates' had been virtually relentless, ever since they had learned that she and Lance had wound up eloping together while on their now infamous post-graduation sabbatical to Atlantic City last year.

They had gotten married in a small casino chapel nearby their hotel, despite them having just met that night and barely even knowing one another, and after both of them had apparently had one too many drinks together.

"Oooh, I've missed you so much!" Lance's wife came up and cheerfully said to him, as she threw both of her arms up around his shoulders, while he had barely gotten out of his jeep, "I have so much to tell you about how my day went, and I want to hear all about yours too!"

"Yeah. Okay." Lance replied in an unenthusiastic and definitely uninterested tone, as his wife showered him with kisses all over one side of his face, "Just let me go upstairs and lay down for a while first."

"Sure, I'll come up with you. And, I can fill you in, in the meantime too." She jubilantly told Lance as she wrapped both of her arms around one of his, utterly oblivious to his obvious lack of interest in what she was saying. The couple then continued on inside together, with Lance knowing full-well that it would be a waste of his time to try and persuade her from coming in to join him.

Meanwhile, Tab just sat there in the jeep for a moment and shook her head in disappointment at the sight of Lance walking off alongside his wife. Tab's opinion of Lance's wife had never been that high to begin with, and in fact, Tab saw her as perhaps the biggest airhead that she had ever met.

At any rate, while Freddy, Todd, and John were now standing and hanging around John's truck talking to each other, Tabitha decided to get out of the jeep and go inside the Brotherhood House. Heading through the front door straight to the kitchen in search of something to drink, Tab came in and opened the fridge in the hopes of finding some bottled water or a soda.

Upon first glance, she wasn't too surprised when all she saw in there was beer, an entire refrigerator stocked seemingly full of just about every brand of beer known to man, which didn't leave much room for anything else in it. Tab figured that while in Rome that she would do as the Romans did, and went ahead and took one of the funny-looking bottles out. She then closed the refrigerator door back and headed back into the Brotherhood's somewhat disheveled living room.

**……………………………………………………**

Sitting down on the worn sofa, which wasn't that old but had certainly been put through its paces by the house's residents', Tab made herself comfortable and grabbed the remote to the TV from off of the coffee table in front of her. Surprised that it and the TV both still worked, Tab then began to flip from one channel to the next in search of something to keep her mind occupied, until Lance came back down later to drive her back home.

But when she went to pick the beer up, which was sitting on the surface of the chipped and scarred coffee-table in front of her, Tab suddenly heard a noise from behind her just as she was about to twist the cap off of, what she thought, was an odd-shaped beer bottle.

"Ah-ah."

Tab then turned around to see John standing there right behind her, shaking his head in a somewhat disapproving manner, as he had just come inside unnoticed by her.

"Why don't you just hand that over, before you hurt yourself?" John said to Tab, as he now came around to the front of the sofa and reached out towards her with his right hand, looking down at this girl sitting there wearing a violet, sleeveless crochet-banded top and a pair of denim-spandex jeans.

"Alright, here." Tab sighed and rolled her eyes up at him, as she did as requested and gave John the unopened beer-bottle.

But, what he did next definitely caught her off-guard.

Instead of taking the beer and putting it back in the refrigerator, John went into the kitchen, only to return with the beer he had taken from Tab plus one more in his other hand. John then reached into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out a thin, metal object. Amazed that it wasn't a cigarette lighter, Tab watched as John proceeded to open one of the beers with this small bottle-opener.

"Here ya go. Seein' as my favorite brand from back home don't come with a twist-top, I figured I'd better step in before you go 'n mangle those pretty, polished fingers of yours on this." John said with a sly smirk, as he now came and handed the beer right back to her.

"That's pretty cool of you." Tab said to John, as she took a sip from the beer and sat it down next to her mirror-lensed shades now sitting on the coffee-table.

"Well, I try to make it a point to never let a pretty girl sit 'n drink alone." John replied, as he sat down in a spare chair off to the side of the sofa, wearing a plain short-sleeved khaki work-shirt and black pants.

"No, I meant with you not getting all 'rentsy on me about drinkin' one of these." Tab said, as she relaxed and sank back into the sofa a little.

"It's no big deal, you 'n the others around here're all eighteen." John said, as he looked at her and then over at the TV briefly.

"Yeah, well on this side of the big pond, you gotta actually be twenty-one to be legal." Tabitha explained to him, as she ran her hand through her hair, which was now more of a brownish-blonde color, and which over the last year and a half she had let grow down to just above her shoulders.

"Hate to break it to ya, but the 'Big Pond' is what the Brits' and you Americans' call the Atlantic. We're separated by a whole 'nother ocean." John smiled and replied, as the Australian now opened his beer, which like Tab's had a bright green and red label with 'VB' stamped in big black lettering on the front of these stoutly-shaped and colored bottles, "Anyways, eighteen is more 'n old enough for anyone to have a round or two, in my humble opinion. And, for whatever else that may tickle your fancy, luv."

John then sat his beer, which was actually an imported lager, down on his end of the coffee-table and placed it next to some kind of bounded notebook, which Tab hadn't noticed being there before. The outer cover had Hearts Set Afire, by 'Johnny Burnes' typed in big, bold letters on its top left-hand corner, and it was a name that sounded awfully familiar to her for some odd reason.

But, just as Tab was about to ask John whom the notebook belonged to and about what was written inside of it, their attention was immediately drawn back over to the television by the loud and brazen voice that was now being broadcast across it.

"…_and my incumbent opponent has yet to fully explain to you, the people, why he has allowed this 'mutant problem' to get so out of control in the first place! What we need now, what the good and decent people of New York demand, is a change! A leader, who isn't afraid and is more than willing to stand up for our rights, even in the face of all of this pro-mutie propaganda, which has done nothing but create a climate of super-powered lawlessness and vigilantism. A strong leader, who is pro-active and won't just sit back and wait for the Federal Government to come in and solve our problems for us. _

_That is why you need me, Graydon Creed, as your next Governor, to help ensure a safe place for us 'normal' humans. For us, as well as for the future of our children."_

_-Paid for by the Graydon Creed for Governor Campaign Action Committee…_

"Yeah, right!" Tab now yelled in a shocked, and at the same time angry tone, after watching this political ad, "Like this wad is really gonna win."

"I'd be willin' to lay money on it." John replied, his tone far more pessimistic and cynical than Tab's, "'Cause that's exactly what he's gonna do."

"You really think so?" Tab now asked him.

"Yep, look at 'im. This guy's already got all the norms' in a tizzy and rallyin' to his side. They're actually buyin' into him bein' their great savior, the one who's gonna stand up and speak for the oppressed majority bein' held down by us dangerous mutants. And, he's sayin' exactly what they feel about us, but're too afraid to say so themselves." John told her, as he gave Tab his own very opinionated dissertation on the subject, "It's a complete crock, if ya ask me. Total bullshit! And, you can be sure that we'll be the ones who wind up payin' the price in the end, because of this hack usin' us to further his own lousy political career."

"Geez, just chill a sec and turn it down a notch or two. This guy's just runnin' for governor, not President." Tabitha remarked to John.

"Well, way I hear it, Hitler started off by takin' baby-steps himself." John raised an eyebrow and poignantly pointed out for her, "Yeah, this guy's got some serious momentum behind him now, and ain't nothin' gonna stop him from takin' a seat up in the Governor's chair.

Nothin', short of a well-aimed bullet, at any rate."

With that last statement, John then flashed Tab what looked like an intensely-wicked grin on his face. Which had Tab now wondering whether John was merely speaking metaphorically, or if there was some literal sentiment behind those words of his? But, before she could ask him to elucidate on what it was that he was implying, John went and beat her to the punch.

"Folks like him is why I joined up with Magneto in the first place, and bought into his whole mutant-superiority spiel." John further revealed to Tab, "At least for a bit, anyways."

"I've always wondered why you, Piotr, and the rest of those guys' wound up hookin'-up with Mags in the first place, and then just split-up?" Tab now questioned this former adherent of Magneto's, who for a time had been wholly dedicated to his ideals of mutant pre-eminence.

"It was a no-brainer, I tell ya. We was all sittin' there watchin' the live TV-feed, you know, back when Apocalypse showed up. And low 'n behold here comes Magneto outta nowhere, so's he can run head-on into the most powerful mutant ever to walk God's green Earth. I mean, it does take some major bollocks to stand up to the supposed harbinger of death. Bollocks, but not much in the way brains though." John was still smiling and unhesitantly explained to her, while he kicked back in his chair and placed a foot up onto the side of the coffee-table that was in front of him.

"Magneto had kept goin' on and on and on, about how we were gonna be the ones' to help ensure a better future for mutants everywhere. And, here he doesn't have the good-sense to think up a better strategy than a suicide attack? I nearly laughed me head off at the whole debacle, watchin' him get his arse handed to him like that!" John said, as he continued talking to Tab, who had been listening to him with great interest and was thoroughly surprised at John's apparently deep political and social awareness of the world around him.

John then began to laugh about it all over again, at the very thought of him having witnessed Magneto seemingly getting pulped over that energy-dome down in Mexico. After a good heart-felt chuckle, John then managed to regain his composure, shifted his torso a little in the chair to get slightly more comfortable, before he finished up his response to Tab's initial inquiry.

"I think I probably watched that footage a thousand times, just marvelin' at the sheer stupidity of it, and at the fact that Magneto had the audacity to call me crazy. Anyways, it wasn't much longer after that we all saw the writin' on the wall, and that bein' one of Magneto's chosen ranked somewhere up there with toe-jam. We all decided to go our separate ways, and Colossus was the first to take off. The only reason that big Russian'd even been there in the first place, was because Mags'd been holdin' somethin' over his head. Sabretooth and Gambit bolted next, headin' out in search of whoever had a job that needed doin', and was willin' to pay their price to do it. And me, I stayed there for a little while at our base, before bein' last to abandon it. When I did finally pick up 'n leave, I just wandered around for a bit and I eventually landed m'self here in Bayville, just so's I could get a good look at how the other-half lived."

"And, you decided to go and jump from one group of losers', just to start hangin' with another?" Tab smirked, as she made her comment to John about him joining the Brotherhood, doing so in spite of the self-deprecating jab that she was also taking at herself in the process. But, despite the slighted shot taken at him from Tab, John didn't get mad at her remark and actually found her comment rather humorous.

John then thought back to the chance encounter that he and Lance had, back when he first blew into Bayville. They had run into one another outside of a local convenience store one afternoon, right after Lance had unsuccessfully tried to buy some beer inside with a shoddily made fake ID, once again. John instantly recognized him as Avalanche, even sans his uniform. After learning about what had happened, John decided to take pity on the younger mutant and went inside to purchase a case of brew for Lance, which wound up endearing him to Lance from that moment on.

Lance even went so far as to invite John back to the Brotherhood House to show his gratitude, where the pair then sat outside in Lance's jeep talking as they polished off half of the case by themselves. During the course of their lengthy conversation, John revealed that he had been drifting about from place to place for the last few months before winding up in Bayville, which Lance immediately responded to by offering him a place to stay.

Lance's Brotherhood teammates', however, were notably uneasy with this individual, who was renowned for his occasionally pyromaniacal tendencies, living under the same roof as them. But in spite of all of this, and even with Pietro being the most vocal in his opposition to John's living there, Lance just as bluntly told them 'exactly' where they could all go. Not only had John said that he would kick in for his share of the rent, and had actually offered to ante-up half of the entire amount due each month, but the Aussie-mutant had now become Lance's steady and reliable source of beer and alcohol, which meant that Lance didn't have to resort to his usually more felonious means of obtaining it.

And there was no way in hell that Lance was going to give that up. In his eyes, that particular benefit to having John around more than overshadowed whatever potential fire-risk that their newest teammate may have posed to them, or to their home and personal property for that matter.

Speaking of which…

"Hey, what're you two up to down here?" Lance now suddenly inquired, as he had just come back downstairs into the living room while strapping his black gloves with the finger-holes cut out of them back on, his demeanor now relaxed and far more chipper than it had been earlier.

Lance was surprised, though, when he came into the living room and saw that Tab and John were sitting in there clearly engaged in some kind of friendly chat together.

"Nothin', mate. Just entertainin' the Sheila here with a few of me new flame-tricks." John replied to Lance's inquiry, as he looked over his shoulder and his Australian-accent suddenly and inexplicably became artificially stronger than it had been moments before.

John then pulled his lighter from out of the other front pocket of his pants, flicking up a small flame up on it that quickly reformed into a series of dancing girls' made out of fire, which then began to can-can and high-kick in the air in front of him.

"Well, you can finish showing her Act II later." Lance said to John, as he then turned towards Tab, "You ready for me to drop you back off at home?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Tab replied, as she now stood up from the tattered sofa, while still looking over at John.

"Cool. When I get back, you and me, we're gonna pick up where we left off last night." Lance further said to John, as he turned to face the door with Tab coming over towards him.

"Roight, mate! And we'll see who can out-drink who this time!" John cackled and vivaciously replied, as he sat back in the chair and was turned at an angle that allowed him to look behind at Lance and Tab, as they made their way over to the front door.

With that, Lance continued on out the door, with Tab following close behind him. But, not before Tab turned back to take one last glance at John, whose attention was once again fixated on the flames' dancing around in front of him.

And, then Tab got it.

She was hip to his act now, having been given a glimpse at John, the real John, when he had for a brief moment dropped his usual veneer of being the insane, out-of-control firebug. She now knew that it was just a façade that he had been putting on for the benefit of everyone else. Everyone, with the exception of her now apparently, and Tab wasn't quite sure as to why?

But, as she walked out of the front-door to the Brotherhood House, Tab was determined to learn the answer to that question, and to the other ones' that she now had regarding one Mr. St. John Allerdyce. And, Tab was also wholly intent on finding out exactly what was written inside of the unusual-looking notebook that had been sitting on the coffee-table by John, as well as what was really going inside of its suspected author?

**……………………………………………………**

Meanwhile, upstairs in the bedroom down at the far end of the hallway on the second floor, a young newlywed, who herself was the most recent addition to the Brotherhood House, was now sitting alone in the bed that she and her husband had been sharing just moments before.

Whenever Lance wasn't in the mood to listen to his wife's incessant chattering, which was usually about nothing in particular, and he wanted to shut her up, he knew of one way to most effectively do so. But, having been married to him for more than a few months now, his wife had long since figured out that when Lance was overly-eager to have sex, that it was his less than clever way of quieting her non-stop prattling.

Which, was one of the only reasons why she loved to annoy him by doing it in the first place.

Having played the role of loving and dutiful wife lo these many months, Jennifer Stavros-Alvers had at the same time quickly learned how to read Lance like a book. Which was an ironic twist, because much like John Allerdyce, she too had also adorned a mask of simplicity, doing so both for the benefit of her husband and for their other housemates'.

But, with that veil dropped for the time being while she was left in her current state of solitude, Jen now sat on their bed with a single white bedsheet wrapped around her, whose color matched the white, miniature disc-shaped object that she was gently caressing in her right hand.

Having taken this brief respite from her usual persona as the dizzy, blonde-bimbo from Atlantic City now living there in Bayville, Jen currently wore a far more serious and introspective expression on her face, as she silently speculated on just how much longer this charade of her's was going to be necessary?

The answer then suddenly came to Jennifer.

Not in the form of lightning striking, nor with the ground quaking beneath her, but with a simple enigmatic grin that was now plainly evident on her face.

Smiling, Jen continued to sit there on her bed, guilefully watching through the bedroom's second-story window as her husband's jeep now departed from the Brotherhood House. With Jen's green-eyes shimmering against the reflective backdrop of a now setting sun, she visually trailed behind the vehicle until it soon disappeared off into the distance, as she had a great many things to contemplate and mentally mull over before Lance's eventual return…

**……………………………………………………**

Next Chapter: **Rogue and Kitty pay a special visit, to a special someone(s)**…


	6. You Should Hear How She Talks About You

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 6- You Should Hear How She Talks About You

_-New York City, Lower East Side_

In the lower section of this Manhattan district, both renowned and at the same time overlooked because of its traditionally strong, immigrant and working-class roots, it should be no surprise then that it would continue to even now attract a diversified population from every ethnic, economic, and social walk of life. Individuals, some of whom would seek to become the world's next great trendsetters, living alongside those others, whose overriding desire would be to remain just as anonymously inconspicuous.

And it is a contrast exemplified to a certain extent by two young ladies, who themselves were currently making their way up to the third-floor of a tenement building located in this neighborhood, on their way to see a friend who now called it home. A close friend, who in one of their cases, secretly wouldn't mind it at all if he wound up becoming something a bit more to her.

"…still haven't answered my question though, 'cat." Was the statement being made by Rogue, as she and Kitty Pryde found themselves at the moment riding up in the building's rickety, yet sturdy freight-elevator, and were once again engaged in a conversation of a somewhat gossipy-nature.

"Well, I thought you were just bein' rhetorical, or somethin'." Kitty replied with a sly smirk on her face, as she stood right next to Rogue and repositioned the book-bag that was slung over her right shoulder, "So, why don't 'cha go ahead and reload it for me?"

"What Ah was askin', was why you 'n Piotr still haven't gone out yet?" Rogue rolled her eyes and repeated herself, as she turned to face Kitty. Rogue was of course referring to Piotr Rasputin, the steely-armored mutant, who was also the X-Men's ally known as Colossus.

While turning towards her, Rogue once again put fully on display the black sleeveless t-shirt that she had on, which had the name of Interpol (one of Rogue's favorite band's) prominently screen-printed across the front of it. And with it, Rogue was also wearing a pair of faded charcoal-black jeans along with black and gray vintage sneakers, which both went along perfectly with the style of this particular top.

Meanwhile, forever fashion-conscience herself, particularly because of her having at times in the past made some rather dubious choices when it came to clothes, Kitty couldn't help but to look down and visually scrutinize her own ensemble. It consisted of a stretchy, brownish-olive sleeveless blouse that had alternating little diamond designs going across it horizontally, a matching olive cargo mini, and a pair of brown leather clogs.

"You mean, the two of us going out? As in a date?" Kitty further and coyly inquired in regards to Rogue's question, as she stood there looking down, giving her own outfit a final once-over.

"Uhh, yeah." Rogue snarkily quipped in response, doing so with one eyebrow raised and a tone that relayed an unmistakable bluntness in it. Which, Rogue had become notorious for, because of her ability to deliver it with such accuracy.

"Umm, I don't know. We just haven't, I guess." Kitty told Rogue, and seemingly continued to play her cards regarding this subject close to her vest.

"So, is that supposed to be your rhetorical answer then?" Rogue now sarcastically asked, referring to Kitty's prior statement, and to her continued evasiveness on giving Rogue a direct answer.

"Nope, just the only one I have. Other than the more obvious one, which is we're just friends." Kitty smilingly replied, as she looked right at Rogue, "Didn't know you found my dating-life so interesting, though?"

"More like Ah'm pointin' out what's been plain to me, and to just about everybody else, for a while now. Ah mean, we've all pretty much figured it out. With the way you're always goin' on and on about him, it couldn't be any more obvious you've got a thing for Mr. Tall, Cute, and Russian." Rogue smiled and speculatively stated, as she lightly needled Kitty in the side with her elbow.

And, for the first time since this particular conversation had started, Kitty didn't have a witty or elusive response to Rogue's suppositions. Instead, Kitty's only discernible reaction was her face becoming slightly flushed at Rogue's words, which only further served to confirm Rogue's suspicions. But, Rogue's intention for her grilling line of questioning had not been to embarrass her best friend.

Far from it, actually.

Rogue had been concerned for some time about Kitty, ever since they had both learned from Kurt (who himself had been told by Wanda) about Lance's sudden, surprise elopement with some girl he met while in Atlantic City last year. And, even though Kitty and Lance had pretty much been broken up for some time before that, she did note a change in Kitty's personality afterwards. Which was only to be expected, when considering the fact that Lance had been Kitty's first love, after-all.

Still, Rogue was worried about the impact that news had wound up having on the generally outgoing and extroverted Kitty, who had slowly and steadily over the last months become more withdrawn and reclusive. It had gotten to the point that Kitty now spent most of her time, when not in class or out on a mission, at home either studying or online. And, Kitty had even rejected Rogue's last few invitations to go and spend a night out on the town with her, and with the rest of their friends.

But, Rogue did see it as a positive sign that she was at least able to coax Kitty out on this partly cloudy afternoon. And since Kitty had played a fairly pivotal role in helping to slowly draw Rogue out of her own aloof emotional-shell, Rogue was only too happy to be able to now return the favor. Moreover, Rogue also had more than a creeping hunch that her suggestion of them swinging by to see Piotr while they were out, had wound up heavily factoring into her being able to persuade Kitty to join her.

"Well, what about you and Gambit?" Kitty finally blurted out, following a few moments of silence between them, and now turned the tables on Rogue with an inquiry of her own.

"What about us, 'sugah'?" Rogue turned towards Kitty, and asked in a fairly nonchalant manner.

But Kitty knew that Rogue rarely, if ever, referred to another human being as 'sugah'. And if she did, it was as a sarcastically defensive response on her part. Usually, when someone had managed to genuinely strike a nerve with her.

"Since you're sooo tryin' to play match-maker for me, I'm wondering why you two haven't gone out yet?" Kitty clarified herself, as she smiled and stood with her arms folded over in front of her. Kitty's postured stance now relayed the fact that inquiring minds', specifically hers, did indeed want to know?

"Because, unlike you and 'muscle-man', there ain't nothin' there." Rogue now assuredly explained for Kitty's benefit.

But, Kitty wasn't buying it.

"Uh-huh." Was Kitty's response, with a disbelieving smirk once again on her face, "That's not what I'm seein', especially when the two of you are around each other."

"Just because Ah've managed to learn to be sorta civil with him, don't mean there's automatically more to it." Rogue further argued her case, but did so to skeptical ears.

But in spite of her currently cool and indifferent veneer, Kitty was just as observant of Rogue, as her friend had been of her. Kitty had noted that Rogue, who in spite of her very encouraging attitude this afternoon, had for the most part remained the utmost cynic when it came to her own romantic prospects. But, she also noticed that the Goth-Southerner on a number of occasions had exhibited a strange awkwardness whenever in the presence of one Remy Lebeau, which Kitty also knew was something that Rogue didn't automatically give-off around, or because of, just anyone.

"Looks more like to me that sooommme-body must've really swept you off of your feet, during your little romantic getaway down in New Orleans." Kitty continued with her ribbing, doing so partially as revenge for Rogue's semi-teasing of her about her own possible enamored attraction.

But, Rogue didn't respond to Kitty's last retort, and with a sighing huff and simple shake of her head, seemed to slip back into her normally detached and moody demeanor. Looking straight forward at the elevators' doors, both girls' now watched as they at last slid open before them, signaling their arrival on the apartment building's third-floor.

**………………………………………………………**

After traveling a brief distance down to the end of the hallway, Rogue knocked on the door of the last apartment there. She and Kitty then stood there and waited, as they could hear footsteps now approaching from the other side, of someone who was now unlocking and unlatching the front door.

"Oh, Hello ladies! This is a pleasant surprise." Was the greeting given to the two girls', as Piotr now stood there in the doorway before them.

And as this physically towering and slightly intimidating figure slid over to the side, he unhesitatingly gestured for Rogue and Kitty to enter the apartment, while they each took notice of his current state of appearance.

"Hope we're not disturbing you, or anything?" Kitty now almost apologetically asked, as she and Rogue walked by Piotr, each of them taking notice of the sky-blue t-shirt and worn-looking navy pants that he had on.

Clothes, which had little splotches of paint in various colors on them, with some of it also on his hands and on one side of his face, but surprisingly not in jet-black hair that had somehow managed to remain perfectly maintained. All of it indicating that Piotr had most likely been in the middle of working on one of his paintings, when Kitty and Rogue had come calling.

"Never, _Katya_! My door, as the saying goes, is always open for you." Piotr quickly and immediately replied, as to assuage any concerns that Kitty may have had about pulling him away from his work, while he now closed said door behind himself and followed them into the apartment's interior.

_Katya_…

And for Kitty, a girl who seemed to have more nicknames' than even she could throw a cat at, it was this peculiar pet-name that Piotr had fondly bestowed upon her that always managed to make her insides tingle and do a little flip around, just at how it so smoothly rolled out through his Slavic-tinged accent.

"Hear that, girl? It's always open for ya." Rogue smilingly said to Kitty next, delivering her comment in a low-breath once they were a number of steps inside of the apartment, and were just out of Piotr's ear-shot.

But, Kitty merely shrugged off Rogue's intentionally provocative and suggestive remark, just as she was about to be greeted by another party who had been sitting in the small living room of the apartment watching TV, and who now turned around when she heard them coming in.

"**_Katya_**!"

Hearing this Russian translation for her nickname for the second time in as many minutes, even though this time it was with a more syllabic pronunciation that sounded more like '_Kaht-tee-ah_', Kitty still felt joy at hearing it. And, this time it was also for an altogether different reason, mainly because of who it was now coming from, as she seemingly skated across the apartment's hardwood flooring towards Kitty.

"And what've you been up to, sweetie?" Kitty replied, as she bent down and was now caught in the grip of a miniature bear-hug courtesy of Illyana Rasputin, the precocious younger sister of Piotr.

"I'm watching Hannah Montana, she is sooo cool! When I grow up, I want to be just like her!" Illyana replied, as the ecstatic blonde-haired girl was now standing right there in front of her, and energetically bounced up and down as she answered Kitty's question.

"Really? I thought you told me, Rogue, and Jean that you wanted to be an X-girl like us, when you grow up?" Kitty raised an eyebrow and playfully asked of the girl, as she looked down and visually took stock of what Illyana had on this day, since the younger girl took tremendous pride in the fact that her older brother now let her pick out her own clothes.

Illyana's outfit consisted of a white short-sleeved t-shirt, with pink stars printed on the front, which she was wearing over a simple long-sleeved pink t-shirt. In addition, the younger girl also had on a pair of light-denim cord jeans, with an eye-catching pair of white/multi-colored velcro sneakers.

"Oh, I do. I want to be a singer like her, AND I want to be in the X-Men just like you." Illyana replied, as she looked up at Kitty an stood with both of her hands behind her back, while she somewhat rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"An X-Man and a famous singer? Now, that would be something." Kitty smiled and remarked, as Illyana now took Kitty by the hand and tuggingly led her back over to where the TV was, so she could show off her favorite new TV star currently on the screen, "And in that case, it sounds like you've got your work cut out for you too."

To see them together, it was obvious that Kitty and Illyana were close, and shared something of a deep bond with one another. Whose beginnings, went back to their very first-meeting.

Following the break-up of Magneto's own elite mutant squad, Piotr had immediately left their ranks to set off on an urgent, personal quest of his own. One, which began back in his native Russia, but would soon brought him back to the foreign soil of the United States. He was on a desperate search to find his family, although that was a bit of a misnomer.

Since his parents had both passed away, and his older brother had also been killed years ago, the only family that Piotr Rasputin had left in this world was his little sister Illyana. A fact, which Magneto had wound up exploiting to his own advantage, using it to bend the armored-Russian to his will far more effectively than he ever could have through his own mutant mastery over magnetism.

After easily acquiring Piotr's services, renaming him Colossus and recruiting him to be a part of his new allegiance dedicated to mutant pre-eminence, Magneto decided to take out a little extra insurance to ensure his newest ally's unwavering loyalty to him. Which, resulted in Magneto taking Piotr's younger sister Illyana, and holding her captive in a secret location until their objectives had been fully achieved. It was Magneto's own way of speaking to the Russian in a manner that he would no doubt understand, and making his point to him in no uncertain terms.

But, when Magneto was later seemingly obliterated at the hands of Apocalypse, Piotr saw it as his opportunity to leave this life that he had been drafted into, and to finally affect his sister's rescue. In spite of him putting his full effort into this search, Piotr would quickly learn that some things, however, are easier said than done.

Piotr's initial return home to Russia to find answers wound up being a rather fruitless venture, as he was only able to beat a scant amount of information out of his former comrades in the Russian-mob regarding the whereabouts of his sister. Undaunted, Piotr then backtracked through a string of safe-houses around the world known to him to have at one-time belonged to Magneto. It was in the off-chance that he might get lucky and find his sister being held at one of them, but it was to no avail. After tearing his way through, and virtually ripping apart one of Magneto's last known safe-houses located back in the U.S. with his bare steeled-hands, and still not finding anything, Piotr was unsure of where to turn to next? Then, he was surprised when someone came and unexpectedly found him.

Using Cerebro, Jean Grey had managed to pinpoint Piotr's current location back in this hemisphere. Which, is where she and Cyclops came and informed him of the fact that Magneto had not died while fighting Apocalypse, and had instead been transformed into one of Apocalypse's horseman, along with Professor Xavier, Storm, and Mystique. When they revealed their strategy to him for launching a four-pronged attack to stop the mad-mutant, before he destroyed a majority of the Earth's population, Piotr didn't hesitate to put aside his own personal tribulation to join in as Colossus and help the X-Men out. Which, was something very much needed from all parties involved, as their combined efforts did wind up cleverly defeating Apocalypse in the end.

Afterwards, the X-Men invited Piotr to come back to Bayville with them and stay at the Xavier Institute, where he at last fully revealed to them the quandary regarding his sister. And, where he first began to make an earnest impression on a certain Northbrook, Illinois native living there.

The X-Men all of course promised to help Piotr out in his search, but they too came up short on clues as to Illyana's whereabouts. Even Professor Xavier, who unbeknownst to his X-Men had been the recipient of numerous visions regarding a great many things in the present, and in a possible future to come, also had little in the way of helpful information. Professor X was unable to even locate Magneto, who had once again managed to slip back underground shortly after being freed from Apocalypse's influence.

Eventually with an additional bit of outside help, Colossus and the X-Men managed to track Illyana's whereabouts down to a seemingly long-abandoned farmhouse outside of Omaha, Nebraska. Surprisingly, it was a place that wound up being hauntingly familiar to another amongst them, but Scott Summers was hard-pressed to recall as to why?

At any rate, one of Magneto's henchmen, a mutant named Nanny who had been charged with the task of holding the kidnapped Illyana lo these many months, came out and immediately engaged the X-Men as soon as they landed, by attacking them with a small army of her own.

Meanwhile, Shadowcat used her own mutant phasing ability and her keen prowess to enter the dilapidated-looking farmhouse, although she quickly learned that the structure's interior was a completely different story. It contained varied and fairly advanced equipment, turning this makeshift home-prison into a hi-tech deathtrap for those uninvited guests who dared venture inside. But invitation or not, Shadowcat was determined that nothing would deter her from her goal. Easily slipping by the house's booby-traps and other security defenses, Shadowcat did achieve her goal and found Illyana tucked away in a sealed, sub-basement room a few levels underground.

Despite the fact that a major battle was now being waged just a number of yards above and away from them, and that her own brother was present there as well, fighting with a tenacious ferocity that both awed and unnerved his new allies, it was Kitty who Illyana first saw when she was finally freed. And, having been deprived of a friendly-face by being held captive for so long, Illyana instinctively latched onto Kitty. It was both a physical attachment, as the frightened little girl tightly-gripped onto Kitty's hand while the pair navigated their way back out of the house, as well as emotionally, as Illyana developed a fondness for Kitty that was something akin to hero-adulation for her liberator.

Which, still lingered on to an extent within Illyana even now, but had for the most part been replaced by a more profound feeling of friendship, and even modest feelings of sisterhood, with Kitty.

"So, what brings the two of you by today?" Piotr now asked, as he had gone back over to an open area in this studio apartment, which he had set aside for use as a personal workspace.

Piotr then sat down on a stool that was right in front of a canvassed-frame, where he had one of his works currently in progress at, as Rogue now came over with him and stood close by to continue their conversation.

"Me and Kitty just came from a protest rally on campus that the Professor wanted us to check out." Rogue replied, as she now took a sneak peek at what Peter was working on, "So, we decided to swing by here after we got through, and see how y'all were doin'."

"This rally, since it has managed to get the attention of Professor Xavier, is it something that we should be concerned about?" Piotr asked, as he turned away from his canvas and looked over his shoulder right at Rogue.

"Nah, it was a pretty good-sized turnout, but it wound up bein' more hype 'n rumor than anything." Rogue replied, as Piotr spun back around on his stool to once again face his half-finished painting, " Kitty and me even went up and talked to the student-president of the undergraduate science society after it was all over. Gwen told us all they wanted was for ESU to devote equal funding for all kinds of genetic research, including mutations, and not to bow or give in to public pressure over it."

Just then, as Piotr and Rogue were talking, and as Kitty and Illyana were watching TV together, they were suddenly joined by another party. And while they were all more-or-less accustomed to big city-life by now, and its rather peculiar nuisances, the sight of someone entering your apartment through a half-opened window in broad-daylight was still enough to bring any and all conversations, TV-watching, or other activities, to an abrupt and screeching halt.

"Nice little get-together y'all got goin' on in here." Was the statement made, as everyone now turned their attention over to the side of the loft apartment, which sat right next to the building's exterior fire-escape, where they each saw a slender figure slipping in through said opened window.

"And it's nice to see that you still ain't lettin' big-city life civilize you none either. Guess 'too cool to use a door' still applies in your case, huh?" Rogue replied, as she remained standing over by Piotr and his painting, her demeanor almost instantly becoming more defensive, and her tone now far more acerbic then it had been all afternoon.

"I suppose it a good thing dat you come around here, so's to keep me from forgettin' what good ol' southern hospitality feels like, _Cheré_." Remy Lebeau stopped about halfway in through the window, so that he could sarcastically shoot back his response to Rogue with a grin just as wide, "'Sides, ain't nothin' wrong with a body enterin' his own apartment any way he sees fit."

Remy then tossed a fairly acrid expression of his own across his scruffy, unshaven face at Rogue for good measure. Which, was a telling indication of an individual who had just gotten back in from a long, and most likely eventful night, in spite of the current afternoon hour. As Remy stood back up once he was inside of the apartment and straightened his posture up, he repositioned his brown trench coat, which was loosely hanging over the tight maroon and slate colored outfit that the renowned thief-extraordinaire was wearing underneath, and fumbled for a few brief moments with something in one of the pockets of his coat.

"Hopefully, whenever we do manage to get him fully house-broken, then all of the extra newspaper laid down around here will finally get to come up as well." Piotr now unexpectedly remarked, as he sat and continued working with his canvassed composition, his face completely straight and his gaze remaining fixated on the task at hand.

And with such a statement delivered aloud, and so out of the blue from the least likely individual among them to deliver such off-beat witticism, a fleeting moment of silence once again came over the entire room. That is, until it was broken by the uncontrollable squealed-laughter of Rogue, who had remained over by Piotr and was now looking at him still diligently at work, still not believing what she had heard come from his lips.

As she attempted to bring her giggling-fit back under control, Rogue's thoughts were suddenly drawn back to a particular incident that had happened a few months back. It was when she had to hastily 'borrow' Colossus' powers, while they and the rest of the graduate X-Men who now lived in Manhattan (and who had since been designated as Cyclops' red-team following their departure from Bayville) were on an exploratory mission to investigate some strange activity in the prehistoric, Antarctic refuge known as The Savage Land.

Rogue now began to musingly wonder to herself if some of her own occasionally petulant humor, hadn't somehow inadvertently rubbed back off on the typically-stoic Russian, during that momentary power-exchange?

"You say, maybe, one sentence a day 'Big Man', and you gotta spend it on insultin' yours truly?" Remy soon responded to the wisecrack that had been made at his expense, as he in turn humorously referred to Piotr's normally reticent demeanor, while leaning up against a far wall in the apartment that sat over next to the kitchen.

"Well, since it is my one for the day." Piotr again replied, as he was still busily painting away, but this time allowed a small smirk to become plainly displayed on his face.

All the while, as Illyana sat on the couch beside Kitty in front of the TV, the younger girl curiously scanned around on the living room's floor, visually searching for this newspaper that her big brother had just mentioned.

For the casual observer to hear them talking to each other right now, and just the fact that Piotr and Remy both appeared to be miles apart personality-wise, one would probably be inclined to assume that these two men would be the last people in the world to become friends, let alone roommates. The truth of the matter was that Piotr and Remy had grown up in similar backgrounds, even if they were half a world away from each other, both coming from environments' that were steeped in criminal activities, which was then followed by their short-lived stint alongside Magneto as members of his Acolytes.

But even with all of this in mind, what had truly solidified their friendship and had earned Piotr's unwavering respect for Remy, was the fact that when contacted through mutual channels by Professor Xavier, Remy had used his own underworld connections made during his time with the Thieves' Guild to aid them in locating Illyana at that abandoned farmhouse in Nebraska. Remy had even gone so far as to accompany Piotr and Logan, when they went to go get those answers in person, the three men obtaining them in a most convincing fashion.

After Piotr, Remy, and the rest of the X-men had located and then rescued Illyana, Piotr and Remy were talking one night not too long afterwards back in Bayville, and the subject of what their next move was going to be came up? Piotr revealed his desire to remain in the U.S. with his sister and to study art, and that Professor Xavier had offered to sponsor him in getting a student-visa, which would allow him to then attend a prestigious art-academy over here in New York City.

Meanwhile, Remy divulged to Piotr that the reason why he had remained was due to his being unable to go back home to New Orleans. On top of the fact that, in many ways, there wasn't a whole lot left to go back to following Hurricane Katrina, another reason for Remy's staying away was because of his having gotten into some trouble with a rival family there, during his last visit prior to that all of that. Trouble, which had resulted in the death of one member of that other family and in his banishment from New Orleans, before an all-out war erupted between the perennially-feuding Thieves' and Assassins' Guilds. Which, was why Remy had been back operating in the New York state-region, prior to Xavier learning of his presence there.

Deciding that relocating to the heart of the Big Apple could certainly have some distinct advantages for a man such as himself, Remy would once again prove himself instrumental in the lives of the Rasputin-siblings. Knowing what and whose strings to pull, Remy helped them to land a halfway-decent sized and priced place to live, which he and Piotr agreed to share. And in a city that was notorious for its fairly limited living accommodations, it was a feat small by no means at all.

"So _Cheré_, you come by so this ol' dog can teach you some new tricks, _non_?" Remy now asked, as he turned his sights right back on Rogue. Remy intentionally referred to her once again by his special pet-name for her, just because he knew how much it irritated and drove Rogue up the wall.

"What're you goin' on about now?" Rogue replied in a huffing tone, as Remy's comment had pulled her out of a contemplative daydream, while she had been standing and gazing at the portrait Piotr was slowly finishing.

"For all your talk about not bein' able to stand me, you seem to keep findin' some pretty convenient excuses to come over here and see me." Remy accusingly remarked to Rogue and immediately drew the full-ire of his fellow Southerner, which was as much expected, as it was intentional on his part.

"Ah don't know where in the hell you got that idea from, 'Swamp-Rat'!" Rogue now asked in a markedly louder voice, as she swiftly made her way over and across the apartment's central living area towards her Cajun antagonizer, "But, since you think you've got me all figured out, just feel free to go right ahead and explain why Ah would have this overwhelmin' urge to come 'n see you, of all people, anyways?"

"Well, since you've got your whole not-bein'-able-to-touch-other-folks under control, I figured you'd want an expert in that area to show you how it's done." Remy replied with a bit of his own trademarked boyish-charm, as he continued pushing her buttons, and further provoked Rogue.

"Bubba, not even with a ten-foot pole!" Rogue shot back, as she was now standing right in front of Remy just a few feet away, her temper hot enough now to almost literally warm the air between them.

"Gambit think he can more than oblige you on dat. Maybe, even teach you how to properly handle one while we at it too?" Remy responded with an innocent-looking smirk on his face, although this risqué comment of his only served to even further incense Rogue.

The pair now became quickly engaged in another of their customary bickering bouts. Which, didn't really surprise anyone else, as it was the norm whenever these two individuals were around one another for more than five minutes.

Meanwhile, as Remy and Rogue's verbal altercation heated up, Kitty got up from the sofa where she had been sitting with Illyana, and came over to where Piotr was. It now gave her the opportunity to take a look at his current work of art, which was still very much in progress.

"So, is this your latest masterpiece?" Kitty inquired in a slightly humorous fashion, although her sentiment was very much serious in regards to her opinion about Piotr's artistic abilities.

"That, I am afraid, is debatable." Piotr replied, his opinion far less sure about the quality of this painting. But, that was the general feeling many people of a creative inclination had about their works, always feeling that they could've somehow been better.

"--**irresistible mah ass**!"

Kitty and Piotr's conversation suddenly experienced a brief lull just as soon as it had begun, when they both looked up and over across the room upon hearing Rogue loudly verbalize her apparent opinion of Remy, and of what she really thought about his ability to woo and enchant the opposite sex.

But, it was in this moment that Piotr's attention had been drawn from away his work at a most fortuitous instance, affording him the opportunity to catch a glimpse of Kitty standing there near to him at just the right spot. With the sunlight coming in through another window close by, angled perfectly, it gave off a basking glow that enveloped itself around Kitty and caused her brown & blonde-highlighted hair to temporarily take on an aurous-tint to it.

Piotr had long noticed, and privately he had very much admired, just how truly beautiful he thought that Kitty was. But, seeing her right here and now was so breathtaking a sight, that Piotr almost considered scrapping his current painting of some far-off paradise locale, to instead capture this stunning creature on display mere feet away from him.

"Um, Piotr, are you okay?" Was the question posed by Kitty posed, as she unknowingly snapped Piotr out of his daydream-like appreciation of her and back into the present, after standing there for a few moments with him blankly staring at her.

"Yes…of course." Piotr bounced back and replied, as he quickly turned away from Kitty and focused back on his painting directly in front of him.

Piotr then hurriedly went back to work on it, in an attempt to try and not be too obvious to Kitty about what it was that had been predominating his thoughts just now, some of which was also of a moderately unchaste nature.

"--**with dis anger-management problem, if you'd just start back takin' yo' medication, _Cheré_**! **Seriously**,…"

Between the TV now blaring out the sound of teen and pre-teen girls (with Illyana included) screeching and/or cheeringly singing along to the Hannah Montana theme-song Best Of Both Worlds, in addition to Remy and Rogue arguing and insulting each other also at a resonant decibel, it was now loud enough in this apartment room to raise both the dead and the South once again.

But, as coincidence would have it, the book-bag that Kitty had brought in with her and had left laying over on the sofa, now unexpectedly came to life and started to wiggle back and forth in a gentle fashion.

"_Katya_, look!" Illyana now called out, as she alarmedly pointed at the squirming bag that was down at the other end of the sofa from her.

Illyana then turned back behind her, facing in the direction where Kitty and her brother were, and shouted yet again in an attempt to get their attention. Which was a challenge for her relatively tiny-voice, to make itself heard over all of the other commotion that was going on in the apartment. But, in the instant that Illyana finally managed to get not only Kitty and Piotr's attention, but was also able to get Remy and Rogue to stop fighting long enough to look over in her direction as well, they were all witness-bearers' to what most would consider a very unusual occurrence.

It was the sight of a lavender-colored snout, as it cautiously peeked itself out through an opening on one of the side-zippers' of Kitty's bag, which had been intentionally left unfastened. Then, in pretty short order, the beak's owner fully revealed itself. A purple-hued lizard emerged from within the bag, looking directly at Illyana, and taking a few guarded steps out onto the sofa-cushion.

Then, Kitty's own little 'souvenir', which she had brought back with her from their Savage Land excursion a few months back, appeared to stretch out each of its four short legs, before fully stretching out the sizable, almost bat-like wings on its back.

"**Mr. Lockheed**!" Illyana now enthusiastically exclaimed, as she immediately recognized the creature, and as the winged, purple-lizard rapidly took flight up around the small apartment. After circling around the apartment a few times up near the ceiling for an aerial survey of his current surroundings, Lockheed then made a sudden and rapid descent downward.

"So, I see you're all refreshed and just rarin' to go, 'sleepy-head'." Kitty turned her head to the side and remarked, after Lockheed had came down and gracefully landed on her left-shoulder, "You were out so long, I didn't even have to bother with activating your image-inducer."

Kitty then reached over, taking her hand to fiddle with the medallion-object attached to the collar that was strapped around Lockheed's neck, which was where the on/off switch for his image-altering device was located. But, Lockheed subsequently responded to Kitty's starting to dote and fuss over him again by spreading his wings out, and swiftly darting through the air back over to the sofa, this time landing right next to Illyana.

"How have you been, Mr. Lockheed?" Illyana sat there and spoke to him again, as she struck up her own conversation with the miniature, fire-breathing dragon. Meanwhile, Lockheed stood there on the sofa-cushion on all four paws and simply looked up at her, over to the TV in front of them, and then back up at Illyana again.

As they sat there together, Illyana then began to point at the TV and once again rattle off about Hannah Montana, this time to Lockheed, before promptly moving on to the subject of them going off to play her favorite game when he was around, Magic and Dragons.

"Come on, I'll be the heroic sorceress, and you can be the evil dragon." Illyana enthusiastically said, as she jumped up from the sofa and Lockheed again took flight, with the pair now playfully beginning to chase each other around the sofa.

"It's nice to see that Illyana has found such a devoted playmate." Piotr remarked, as he now watched the pair, having previously observed just how well his sister and Lockheed seemed to interact.

"The way Lockheed acts, you could also probably say the same thing about him." Kitty said in response, as she had also paid attention to how it seemed that Lockheed and Illyana, at times, conducted themselves like immaculate partners-in-crime.

"Truth be told, Ah haven't seen 'yana or Stitch over there act this giddy, since that last time we had her over for a sleepover, and surprised 'em both by takin' 'em out for that midnight-whirl over the city onboard the V-2 Stealth." Rogue came over and said, referencing the red-team's main mode of transportation when out on missions.

Then, Piotr, Kitty, Rogue, and Remy all stopped what they were doing and just stood there for a moment. They watched as Illyana and her not-so imaginary dragon friend, who was currently circling around right above her head, both danced off out of the room together and headed for her bedroom, so that Illyana could retrieve a small plastic-sword that she used when they played their favorite fairy-tale game together.

**…………………………………………………**

Next Chapter: **Bobby, Angelica, and some leisurely times at Bayville High**…


	7. Crush on You

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

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Chapter 7- Crush On You

-_The Xavier Institute: Bayville, New York_

At 'Mutant Manor', as some of the Xavier Institute's own the residents have come to refer to their home, a new day has dawned. And with it, have come those early morning formalities that the Institute's residents have all grown accustomed to, no matter the length of time that they've actually been living here.

Which, was something that Angelica Jones could easily attest to, as this fairly recent transplant from New Jersey currently made her way back to her bedroom, following a somewhat extended wait in the morning bathroom line at the far-end corridor of the girls' wing of the upstairs student dormitories. This, in spite of the fact that an intentional change had been made to the mansion's original design blueprints to allow for an expansion of bathroom facilities, back when the mansion was being rebuilt, just for this very reason.

At any rate, as Angelica now approached the doorway to her bedroom, she was immediately met by a most unexpected occurrence. No, it wasn't from her hearing the radio on inside of her room, since Angelica had left her clock-radio on after the alarm went off earlier this morning to wake her up. Nor, was it from the angst-ridden wailings of Kelly Clarkson coming from said radio, as she sang about falling in love, its ups-and-downs, and the pain associated when those romantic feelings weren't equally reciprocated from the object of her affection.

Which, was a subject that Angelica herself had also fast become all too-familiar with from her own personal experiences, after having developed an unanticipated, but very intense, crush on a certain other resident of the Institute. Who, ironically enough in contrast to her own heat-generating abilities, himself had more of a predilection towards things of an icy-cold nature.

Still, it was an undeniable attraction that Angelica felt very deeply for him, for reasons even she had yet to fully understand since he appeared to be her complete and total opposite personality-wise. For these and other reasons, Angelica had decided to keep it a closely guarded secret from everyone else including, and most especially, from this arctically-inclined young man.

But, what had Angelica really feeling surprised at this moment, almost to the point of being in awe, was from the priceless sight of seeing her roommate singing and melodically humming along in perfect accompaniment to the former Idol-winner's Since U Been Gone.

"Never took you for a closet Kelly Clarkson fan, Laura?" Angelica cheerfully said, as she announced her presence to her roommate, and her return to their shared bedroom.

"Huh?" X-23 now uttered from over on the other side of their room. Who, since settling down in Bayville, had been living there under the assumed identity of Laura Logan, the recently relocated younger sister of one of the Xavier Institute's faculty-members.

And, who had also been nowhere in sight when Angelica had first awoken this morning. As it was, Angelica was just now starting to get herself accustomed to Laura's rather unusual, and sometimes unpredictable, behavior. Most notably, her roommate's bizarre sleeping habits, and general lack thereof.

One night right after Laura had first come to live at the Institute, Angelica first observed her new roommate experiencing one of her restless post-midnight episodes, as Laura thrashed about in her bed thanks to another in a seemingly endless string of nightmares. When Laura suddenly shot-up out of her bed, quickly throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats before quickly exiting their room, a concerned Angelica immediately got up and followed Laura down the hallway to check on her and make sure that she was okay?

It was a few minutes later that Angelica found Laura downstairs, spotting her roommate through the glass paneling of the French double-doors that led outside into the Institute's beautiful exterior-garden. From her vantage-point on the inside of the closed door, Angelica observed that Laura was tranquilly perched in a crouched position on one of the garden's many concrete benches, and that she wasn't out there alone. With it being the middle of the night, Angelica could barely make out this other figure out there with Laura, but had a strong guess as to his identity.

It was from her managing to notice that, despite this shrouded moonlight, he appeared to have been out there wearing a simple muscle-shirt and jeans. And even more telling, was his calmly puffing on a lit cigar out there, while leisurely leaning up against a nearby tree in the shadowed-darkness. Angelica also observed that the pair seemed to be out there in silent communion with their outdoor surroundings together.

Or so she speculated, but truth be told, Angelica wasn't really sure what was going on out there? And after watching them for about a half-hour, and not seeing either of them really move or say anything at all, Angelica came to the conclusion that whatever nighttime peace that the two had sought out, that it had been found in their shared solitude out here. And that is how she left them, when she decided to go back to bed.

Irregardless, as Angelica now stood this morning in the doorway to her and Laura's room, she was dressed in a saffron-yellow blouse, which had ¾ length sleeves that were adorned with adjustable drawstrings at the cuff. Angelica also had on a pair of cobblestone-brown trousers that she accessorized with a pair of brown, close-backed clogs. Which Laura now noticed, after she suddenly looked up at Angelica from over on her own bed, herself dressed in a black scoopneck-tee underneath a full-length white tank, a stone-washed black denim mini, and a pair of black oversized combat boots.

Laura had been docilely sitting there cross-legged on the bed, before she turned her attention away from the magazine plopped down right in front of her on top of her bed's fuchsia-rose colored comforter. For those individuals who had just a cursory acquaintance with Laura, they would have probably assumed automatically that her choice of literature would have had to do with guns and ammo, the martial arts and related weapons techniques, or some other subject of an associatively violent nature.

But, they too would be just as surprised as to learn that the magazine currently holding Laura's attention was about nothing of the sort, and actually had to do with home decoration and other domestic sensibilities.

"What're you talking about?" Laura further inquired, as she paused her review of the reading material down in front of her to now focus up on her roommate, who was over underneath the bedroom's entranceway.

"I heard you from all the way out in the hallway. You were belting out some pretty major back-ups in here." Angelica now grinningly replied to Laura's question, as she leaned against the doorframe, gesturing over her right shoulder with her thumb and pointing back towards the hallway behind her, before coming into the room and going to sit down in front of a desk-mirror that was off in one corner of their shared bedroom.

"**Wasnot**!" Laura snapped in response to Angelica's astute observations, doing so with a very blunt and surly sentiment behind her tone, as she quickly turned her gaze back down to this copy of Martha Stewart Living opened up before her. Which, she had borrowed from off of the coffee table in the Institute's main living room downstairs.

Before being given such a harsh reply, Angelica was just about to compliment Laura on her apparent natural singing ability, thinking that her roommate did indeed have a beautiful voice. But, with Laura so very adamantly denying that she had even been singing along with the tune on the radio, possibly out of a sense of embarrassment, Angelica thought it best to just drop the subject all-together for the time being.

Laura in the interim had continued reading on, pushing her stylized dark-brunette hair from in front of her face and to the side, as she applied her near-photographic memory and a careful scrutiny to this homemaker's magazine before her, and to the articles that lay within. But, she remained curiously confused about the magazine publication, and was still unable to conclusively determine for herself whether these decorating hints and tips being dispensed were merely meant to be helpful to the reader, or if they were the contrivance of some conspiracy that was far more twisted?

Meanwhile, Angelica sat in front of the mirror and grabbed her hairbrush off of the desk, proceeding to stroke through her fire-red locks with it, all in an attempt to make herself presentable in enough time to be ready to head off for another trying day at Bayville High, along with their other classmates' at the Institute.

**…………………………………………………………………**

Minutes later, both Angelica and Laura left their bedroom, making their way now downstairs and down to the kitchen. Presently in there to welcome them were Professor Xavier, Dr. Ororo Munroe, and Dr. Henry McCoy, who were already seated at the extended rectangular dining table within. Along, with the noticeable scent permeating throughout the kitchen from the abundance of food items, which had been prepared and set-out on the table in numerous copper and silver serving-chafers to accommodate the Institute's widely-ranging tastes.

"Good morning." Angelica affably said, as she entered and spoke to the three adults currently occupying the kitchen, with them replying in kind as they briefly paused their conversation over their morning cups of coffee.

Angelica was then immediately followed into the kitchen by Laura, who in turn only offered each of her teachers' a cordial nod and a faint, partial-smile as a greeting. Which, after having spent enough time with her 'older brother' by now, especially in Ororo's and Professor Xavier's case, that they had become fairly accustomed to having such a modestly-sociable reception sent back at them to start the day off.

After exchanging early-morning pleasantries with their teachers, both girls' then went and took their seats at the table alongside them, before they were all soon joined by the rest of the junior-level students now trickling down into the kitchen, each coming down after having also spent these pre and post-dawn hours getting ready for another day at school, with Jubilee leading the way.

It might seem strange to learn that Jubilee was on the X-Men's junior-level team, considering the fact that she had been at the Institute well before some of the senior-level students? But, since Jubilee's parents had disenrolled her shortly after the existence of mutants' became public knowledge, and had only been allowed to come back to the Institute just a couple of months before Angelica and Laura had arrived, following the innumerable heartfelt pleas that she had made to her parents finally being considered by them.

Even though all of her old friends' and Professor Xavier were certainly glad to have her back, he thought it best to place her with the current junior-squad to help her gain a higher level of battlefield proficiency with her powers, since by now she had fallen so far behind her old teammates' in that regard. Much like Laura, who was also placed on the junior-squad, although in her case it was not due to a lack of skills in the use of her mutant abilities, far from it.

After a careful assessment, Professor Xavier had unquestionably recognized that Laura's combat-expertise far surpassed that of the Institute's current senior-roster, as well as perhaps most of his graduate X-Men. Where Laura was found lacking was in the fact that her capabilities were for the most part individualistically-oriented, and that she needed considerable improvement in the area of teamwork, by learning how to work with and rely on others as a productive member of a cohesive unit.

"So P.G., you ready for that big biology quiz today? Hmmm…what am I sayin', of course you're ready! You should be, seein' how you spend all your time with your head buried in a book somewhere." Jubilation Lee, who was more aptly known as Jubilee said, as she announced her presence from the other side of the kitchen's swinging double-doors, and did so with her trademarked humorous barbs also in accompaniment.

"At least I actually read my books, and don't just use 'em as a substitute pillow." P.G., aka Paige Guthrie, aka Husk smirked and sassily shot back in response to being taunted about her vigorous study habits, as the ash-blonde came into the kitchen next through the open doors behind Jubilee.

"Not this again…" Jubilee sighed, as she shook her head at being reminded of 'the incident'.

"You brought it up, not me." Paige said, with a smile still very much evident on her face.

"Jubes can't help it. For a while there, she was bigger at Bayville High than that Star Wars kid." Everett Thomas, the erstwhile Synch added, as he entered the kitchen next, and also with a slight laugh.

"Whose side are you on anyways?" Jubilee now turned around and asked Everett point-blank, the perturbment in her tone obvious.

"I was just saying, that's all." Everett stopped dead in his tracks, as he held his hands up in a neutral position with both palms flat and replied, while he lessened the grin on his face considerably.

"Well, all I'm sayin' is, if I ever find out whoever put that video up on the school's website, they can cancel whatever they're post-graduation plans are!" Jubilee stated, doing so out loud and for the record.

As the kitchen doors swung close, there was one final entrant to come in with the group, who was more or less oblivious to the talk that was taking place among her peers. She seemed to be more wrapped up in her own world, engaged now in a one-on-one conversation.

"…I bet'cha you're hungry, aren't you? You hardly ate anything last night." Doreen Green said, who was appropriately enough also known as Squirrel Girl because of her squirrel-like appearance due to her mutant abilities. Which, included a bushy prehensile-tail, very noticeably large buck-teeth and short retractable claws, as well as her other more markedly-related instinctual tendencies.

Up on Doreen's right-shoulder as she walked into the kitchen was a brownish-gray squirrel, whom she had nick-named Monkey Joe and who seemed to be sitting there and comprehending every word that she was saying to him, while she caressingly ran her hand across the mane of his neck.

Not unlike another X-Woman, and her own adopted pet dragon.

While Doreen and Monkey Joe made their way over to one of the smaller covered trays on the table, which had hazelnuts warming inside for this pair specifically, the older occupants' in the kitchen now noticed that there was one missing from the group's number.

"Where is Jonothan?" Ororo asked, in reference to Jonothan Starsmore, the student also known as Chamber to his teammates'.

"Habn't theen him." Jubilee replied first, her mouth already half-full of food, as she put her plate down on the table in front of one of the seats.

"Jono was up and gone before I even woke up." Everett remarked next, as he took his seat at the table beside Jubilee.

"Probably just decided to skip breakfast, again. I mean, seein' as there really isn't much of a point, not in his case anyways." Paige added, as she too sat on the other side of Jubilee, across the table from Angelica, Laura, and Doreen, but made her comment with a more somber sensibility to it while looking down at her plate.

Nothing further was said amongst anyone in the kitchen regarding Jono and his absence this morning, knowing full well the difficulties the British-born mutant had experienced ever since that day when a powerful burst of energy first exploded from his body.

Literally.

Which left his chest and face with tremendous physical disfigurements, and Jono with an angry and withdrawn attitude towards rest of the world around him. It was something that Professor Xavier and the rest of the Institute's faculty were growing increasingly concerned about, as they had discussed amongst themselves the fact that Chamber had become more reclusive and isolated in his behavior as of late, even from the other residents living there.

In spite of any concern they may have had over Jono's absence, the rest of his junior-squad teammates assembled here in the kitchen didn't have the luxury of any continued debate about his whereabouts. They had to hurry and finish up with breakfast, so that they could make it outside in time enough to catch the school-bus before it ran its route and passed by the Institute. Which was in stark contrast to the senior-level students, whom a good number including Paige's older brother Sam had their driver's licenses, and therefore could leave for school much later.

The junior-level students didn't gripe too much about this situation, however, as one of the trade-offs was that Havok's Black-Team all had to run their Danger Room sessions before school, instead of after like the juniors', thus necessitating their having to wake-up very early in the morning to do so.

**………………………………………………………………**

-_Bayville High School: Bayville, New York_

Much like the dividing lines erected between individuals to separate both themselves and their social spheres from those, who were in some way different from them, high-school life often tended to mimic and pattern itself after these very same notions of exclusivity. And, in some cases, to take it one step beyond by identifying others through the use of broad, overlaying and over-generalizing terms.

Jocks and Cheerleaders.

Plastics and Preps.

Geeks and Losers.

A/V's and Gearheads.

Slackers and Burnouts.

The list could easily go on and on, with the names used to label and box people into these convenient little categories able to immediately evoke very specific images, both positive and negative, in the minds of those who have seen, or themselves have been, a part of one of these cliques. But, none of those above have sparked the level of debate and animosity as the most recent group to have gained this manner of distinction, in high school and in society as a whole.

Mutants.

And, for those teens born with unusual genetic gifts that have in turn granted them with even more extraordinary powers and abilities, being a part of this anomalous group felt as though it oddly enough ranked them on the social scale of high school popularity somewhere between the really cool kids, and having just joined a leper colony. Which, meant that while mutants were regarded as a bit of a quaint oddity, thanks to an overall curiosity about these strange and varied powers that they possessed, mutants at the same time were hated for being so different from the perceived 'norm' because of those very same powers, which seemed to generally scare and frighten the rest of the populace.

Which, is where Ms. Keyasha Hogarth came, or rather, was thrown in.

After Edward Kelly won his bid to become Bayville's next mayor by running on a staunch anti-mutant platform, it fell to Principal Hogarth as his successor to attempt to keep the peace at a high school in a town, which from the outside looking in, appeared at times as being on the verge of tearing itself apart over this mutant debate.

As Bayville High's first African-American principal, and only the second woman to hold this position following the mysterious and still unsolved disappearance of Raven Darkholme, Principal Hogarth seemed to have the odds stacked against her from the get-go. She was walking into a seemingly hostile environment where intolerance appeared to be quickly gaining a foothold, even if it was being ostensibly vented under the guise of public safety concerns.

Still, with years' worth of experience to back her up and a desire to fearlessly forge a new path ahead in this community, Principal Hogarth would prove that she was more than up to the task. And, would do so in a succinct and very convincing manner.

While she had taken a fairly objective stance on the mutant issue, pledging to make Bayville High into a place where all of its students would be safe and would feel welcomed, one of Principal Hogarth's first, and boldly stunning moves, was to go out and purposely add a mutant to the school's faculty. Doing so, in the name of staff-diversity.

After conferring with local resident and foremost expert in this area Professor Charles Xavier on her decision, an offer was initially made to Henry McCoy that would allow him return to his old teaching job as part of Bayville High's science department. But, enjoying the work that he was currently doing and feeling that his place now was at the Xavier Institute, Hank politely declined the offer.

It was then that Professor Xavier recalled seeing a report from a few weeks prior, which mentioned a teacher having recently been forced to resign her teaching position by a local school board in upstate Massachusetts. It was after her mutant-status was revealed and made known to the public, a fact that she certainly hadn't flaunted, but one that had still managed to come out. And, one that she had made no attempt to cover up either. Xavier then suggested to the new Bayville principal that she might want to consider contacting this recently-fired teacher, to see if she would consider a move to Bayville?

Which Principal Hogarth did, and which wound up being a windfall for the school. As evidenced by a good percentage of this new teacher's students', both mutant and non-mutant, some of whom had come to look-up to their new teacher as something of a role model, and with a number of the others at least managing to look past whatever extra-genes that she may have possessed, to respect her teaching ability…

"Who would like to explain to the rest of the class the differences between a first-person and a third-person narrative?" Was the question posed to this entire 2nd period English class by their teacher, who had been in Bayville for about a year now.

And, whose highly-formal timbre in her voice along with her very name seemed to perfectly complement her, at times, perceived chilly affinity with her students.

Particularly, with the ones' who made a habit out of coming to her class unprepared.

"Anyone? Don't all of you raise your hands at once!" She once again asked her entire class, this time her voice relaying a definite hint of acrimonious irritation to it, as her diamond-blue eyes peered out at her students' through the upper-half of her bifocal lenses, which were currently resting comfortably on the somewhat narrow bridge of her nose.

Then, one student finally rose to the challenge, raising her left-hand up from her seated position at her desk.

"I can, Miss Frost."

"Very well…" Emma Frost replied, as she nodded her head, while leaning ever so slightly up against the front-edge of her own rather broad desk behind her.

Miss Frost now stood at the front of her classroom attired in a fairly conservative outfit, which consisted of a loose-fitting white blouse with bell-cuff sleeves and a wrap-style enclosure at the front, a navy knee-length skirt, a pair of black ankle boots, and she had her platinum-blonde hair tied back into a tight, single bun.

"A first-person narrative is noted by its use of first-person pronouns, such as 'I' and 'We', and with the writer telling the story from the perspective of a character, usually the protagonist. A third-person narrative uses a far less personal approach, by telling a story without the author having to necessarily place himself within its actual context." This girl went on to meticulously explain, as she now stood up before her classmates' to address them and her teacher.

"I'm pleased to see that at least one of you did the assigned reading last night. Very good Monet, you may sit down now." Miss Frost told Monet, as her astute student quickly went and retook her seat. Miss Frost then repositioned the eyeglasses that she was wearing, before going around her desk at the front of the classroom to write on the sizable chalkboard behind her, and to continue with the day's lessons, "I want everyone to turn to page 129 of your text-books."

Meanwhile, Angelica had been among the classroom's observers who had served as audience to their classmate's flawless recitation, and in some ways, Angelica felt that it just wasn't fair. Not that Angelica felt that her classmate should be faulted in any way for being so knowledgeable and eloquent, it was just that Monet St. Croix seemed to be so absolutely and completely perfect in every way conceivable, and a small part of Angelica couldn't help but feel a little jealous because of it.

From her flawless figure and other physical features, to her steady stream of one-of-a-kind designer outfits, to the way that all the guys' seemed to flirt and fawn over her, it felt like things just seemed to always fall into place for Monet. But, as much as she wished that she could have that kind of luck, particularly when it came to the romance department, Angelica also knew that her own life really wasn't all that bad.

She was also well aware that things could have been much worse for her, especially after having heard about some of what the other kids' at the Institute had been through. Still, Angelica thought that for a boringly average-girl like herself, it'd be nice to luck out.

Just for a change, anyways…

**………………………………………………**

Later on in the day when lunch-period finally rolled around, all of the students were left free to congregate with one another and to catch up on the day's current events, along with making future plans for when school let out this afternoon. And with an almost intrinsic proclivity, they all broke off into their predetermined groups, which were drawn along the pre-existing lines that separated one clique from the next. These boundaries were clearly defined by whom you sat with at lunch, and were lines that generally weren't crossed as well.

For the most part, anyways.

With every rule there are the exceptions, as evidenced at two out of the myriad of outdoor lunch tables in the commons area of Bayville High. Which was also where music could be heard from yet another table not too far away from these two, coming from a radio boombox that somebody had snuck out there and had tuned to KBAY, Bayville's main Top 40 hip-hop/rock-mix radio station. But at the two tables in question, the overwhelming majority of those individuals seated there were from the Xavier Institute and were joined by one additional student, who himself happened to be of the non-mutant persuasion.

Sitting on one of the poly-lumber benches beside Amara Aquilla was Zack Nasif, who had been her steady boyfriend since the middle of last school year. And as a couple, Zack and Amara had endured numerous criticisms and had overcome the enormous obstacles tossed their way when they first started dating, because of their perceived vast differences.

Which surprised them both, particularly by the fact that these objections were, at times, coming at them from both sides. And, were being voiced for reasons that actually went beyond the mere fact that Amara, a native and citizen of the antiquitous civilization of Nova Roma, was herself a mutant. Eventually though, Amara and Zack were able to gain a commensurate level of acceptance from their friends, and from their families, regarding their relationship.

Alongside this happy couple seated here at the two bench-tables were a few members of the Institute's junior-level classmen, who were intermingled in with the older senior-level students. And who, at the moment, were all being treated to the comic regalery of one their own, Bobby Drake.

"…so, the horse stands up, turns around, and says to the cowboy, 'Look Mister, how's about I strap on those chaps myself and just smack you on the ass a few times instead, and we can call it even?'" Bobby said, as he stood before his classmates and delivered the punch line to his slightly dirty joke.

"That's a good one, Bobby!" Alex Summers laughingly responded, as he was the first to comment on Bobby's brief and comical cut-up.

Which, spoke volumes as to the current state of his and Bobby's ongoing feud, and to the fact that whatever animosity or rivalry they may have felt towards one another, that it obviously wasn't absolute.

Meanwhile Lorna Dane and Rahne Sinclair, who were both seated across their table from Amara, Zack, and Jubilee, were also giggling with most of the junior-squad girls' on both sides, but for a different reason. They had been paying a cursory attention to what Bobby had been saying, but their focus had been more so on their own conversation about the latest gossip that they had heard, which mostly had to do with 'who was going with who' to the rapidly upcoming back-to-school dance.

Over at the other table were Ray Crisp, Roberto Da Costa, Jamie Madrox, and Samuel Guthrie, who along with Everett, were now getting back to discussing the details of the previous night's X-cessive sports motor-cross challenge that was televised on TV. Which, was where world-famous superhero Johnny Storm had made a special guest-rider appearance, and had put on a charity exhibition performance for the crowd by incorporating his fantastic powers into his death-defying stunts.

With his friends' conversations now turning towards other subjects, Bobby silently stood there for a moment and did a quick survey of his formerly attentive audience, picking up on their various topics of discussion. Then, he realized that their small-circle was a few people short.

Already aware that Jono and Laura each usually had a habit of going off and doing their own thing, whatever and wherever that was, Bobby conducted a wider visual scan of the commons around them. In a matter of a few seconds Bobby spotted this other missing individual, locating Angelica sitting off by herself beneath the secluded shade of a willow tree. Which, was one of a great variety of trees that had been donated to Bayville High and had been planted on campus, following the most recent in a long string of necessitated reconstruction projects.

As Bobby began to make his way through the sea of identical outdoor tables across the commons, it was unbeknownst to Angelica, who was currently sitting there in her semi-sequestered hideaway and was completely engrossed in the latest romance novel published by best-selling author Johnny Burnes. But, Bobby's was a presence that could hardly be denied or ignored for very long, as Angelica was soon about to find out.

"So what's-uhhh, happenin', hot-stuff?" Bobby smirkingly said, as he walked over to and underneath this tree to join Angelica.

"Not that lame nickname, for starters." Angelica replied, as Bobby stood over and right beside her, her eyes still trained downward on the open pages of her book and her tone poised and not all that friendly towards him. Which, displayed just how hot and cold things between the two had been for a while now.

Ever since that evening out in the garden at the Institute, where Angelica felt that she had made a complete idiot out of herself by coming off as some sort of lovesick schoolgirl in front of Bobby during their first conservation, she had been purposely avoiding him. It was all in an intentional attempt on Angelica's part to keep from making herself look like an even bigger dork to him. Or even worse than that, by once again becoming the subject of ridicule by her peers', this time by Bobby and the other older kids', by being known as 'that clueless underclassman' who was totally crushing on 'the Iceman'.

Angelica had heard through the grapevine at the Institute that Bobby and Jubilee, while not an official couple, had been very close before Jubilee's parents had taken her back home to California. Whatever that may have meant, Angelica hadn't found this out until after she had finally gotten the courage up to go out and talk to Bobby that particular evening, and had wound up putting herself out on the line by somewhat pouring her heart out to him.

In the time since, through her own subtle observations of Bobby and Jubilee at school and around the Institute, Angelica had ascertained that the pair appeared now to just be good friends. Who, seemed to share a love of practical jokes, out-pranking each other, and just goofing-off in general together. But, it didn't seem like there was any conscious effort by either of them to rekindle or resume any kind of romantic relationship following Jubilee's return to the Institute, which had been just a couple of months prior to Angelica's own arrival in Bayville.

Still, Angelica wasn't one hundred percent sure about Bobby and Jubilee's relationship status? And this time, she was determined not to get herself caught up in another situation like those ugly incidents that she had experienced back home in New Jersey with a girl named Bonnie, by competing with someone else over a guy who might turn out to not even interested in her. So Angelica had, ironically enough, been playing it cool with Bobby by pretending not to have the 'hots' for him.

Which, was just as well.

Considering the fact that, until just now, Bobby hadn't said a single word to her at all, not since that night out in the garden anyways. And, it had given Angelica a pretty good guess as to what Bobby's feelings towards her really were, since she certainly wasn't keen on getting hurt again, and especially on a 'thing' that might turn out not to be.

"So, why're you sitting over here all by yourself?" Bobby asked Angelica after an awkward period of silence between them, his hands now tucked into his front jeans-pockets and his posture-stance very relaxed and casual.

"I just wanted some time alone. Last I checked, there's no law against that." Angelica abruptly replied, this time placing a pink and blue book-mark in between the pages of the novel that she was reading, before very forcefully closing it.

Angelica then actually turned her focus to look up at Bobby, first glancing over the blue and gray-striped shirt that he had on with her honeydew-green eyes, before they met and locked onto his brown ones, "Besides, I'm surprised you even noticed I wasn't around, in between cracking joke after joke over there?"

"Guess I'm just observant that way. Must be from all that time hangin' out with Logan, finally starting to rub off on me?" Bobby sarcastically remarked, as he stood there and began to nervously fidget a little, "Pretty soon, I guess I'll be fightin' and swearin' all the time, drinkin' beer and smokin' cigars like it's goin' out of style, and uncontrollably callin' anyone and everyone 'Bub'?"

With his last quip, Bobby used his powers to create three small blade-like claws on his right hand. And he was, at last, able to draw a smile from the previously sullen countenance on Angelica's face, who despite her own best attempts to keep from lightly giggling at Bobby's slap-stick antics about Mr. Logan.

And, deciding not to give this now more inviting mood of Angelica's an opportunity to fade, Bobby immediately knelt down to take a seat on the grass beside her. As he did, Angelica amicably slid over a little, and surprisingly offered a beckoning gesture towards Bobby.

"So, since we're on the subject of folks that have a short-fuse, what's it been like having to room with X-2…um, Laura?" Bobby now asked Angelica, as he immediately caught and tried to cover his unintentional slip of the tongue.

Bobby knew that he and his teammates had been told to refrain, as much as was possible while out in public, from using any of their fellow X-Men's codenames when not on a mission. And, given her tumultuous past, the Professor had instructed all of his X-Men to be even more sensitive about this when it came to Laura especially.

"Okay, I guess. What makes you ask?" Angelica uneasily replied to this inquiry about her and Laura's compatibility as roommates, unsure of why Bobby had posed this particular question to her in the first-place.

"You do know she flipped out and attacked us all the first time she showed up at the Institute?" Bobby raised an eyebrow and revealed to her, and the fact that what had happened was still fresh in his memory. Although, Bobby was unaware that Angelica and Laura had already discussed that particular incident.

Along, with a few other things from her past that Laura had briefly talked about, most of which had to do with why Laura actually felt uncomfortable at times being at the Institute now, and around the other residents there as well. Angelica thought that these were things that had been told to her by Laura in confidence, which she had no intention of bringing up or discussing right now.

"Well, if she decides to do it again, I'm sure you'll be the first to know." Angelica sarcastically remarked to Bobby's statement about Laura's prior invasion of the Institute, as she opened her book up again and looked down onto the pages before her, with a slight smirk on her face.

It took a few moments, before Bobby caught the drift of Angelica's statement, and he almost started to ask her if she really knew something that she wasn't telling him? But, Bobby decided to save that query for another time. He felt that now was the perfect chance to ask Angelica something that he had been wanting to for a while now, and that he definitely shouldn't waste it.

"Say, Angelica. You know about the big dance that's coming up, right?" Bobby asked Angelica, as he sat beside her and looked down at his white sneakers in front of him, and began to slowly and anxiously rub his hands in a small circular fashion across the front pant-legs of his jeans.

"Uh-huh." Angelica replied, her tone sounding a bit disinterested, as she continued reading her book and was hurrying to finish this chapter that she was on before their next class-period started.

But, Angelica was more than well-aware of the upcoming dance. She would literally have had to have been living in a hole somewhere not to, since that's all the other girls' at the Institute seemed to be talking about the closer that they got to the night of this major function.

"Well, I was wondering if…well if you weren't busy, if you'd like to go? With me?" Bobby now asked, as he turned to look at Angelica and finally said aloud the question that he had building and working up towards for the last few weeks.

It had taken him this long because when Bobby would see her alone, he felt that either the timing was wrong, or more often he was just plain unable to get up the courage to go up and ask Angelica. Until now, that is.

Regardless, Angelica definitely heard Bobby loud and clear. Which, was further evidenced by the fact that her book and jaw seemed to drop and hit the ground at about the same time, as a blank and stunned expression quickly swept over Angelica's face.

"Are…you asking me to the dance? Like, as in a date?" Angelica now asked Bobby, wanting to clarify that she had heard him right, before she even thought about giving him any kind of a reply.

"Yeah, I guess you could call it a date, sure." Bobby confirmed, as he sat there and anxiously awaited her answer.

Meanwhile, a genuine smile came to Angelica's face at the prospect of her getting asked to go to the dance, and that Bobby actually wanted to go there with her. Then, just as swiftly, insecurity began to creep into Angelica's mind as another thought caused her ecstatic mood to suddenly become dead-serious.

"Wait, this isn't another one of your stupid practical jokes, that you and the other guys' came up with? '**Cause if it is, I swear I'll show you exactly what they mean about fire and ice not mixing**!" Angelica loudly asked Bobby, as she leveled her inquisition at him with volume behind it, driven by her deep-rooted fear of being made the butt of somebody else's cruel prank ever again. That, and the perception of Bobby being that everything in life to him was just one big joke.

Then, because of her now very heightened emotional state, Angelica began to glow with a slight energy aura that surrounded her entire body, a side-effect of her mutant radiation-based powers being subconsciously triggered.

"Just calm down, I'm not trying to pull some joke on you. Honest." Bobby told Angelica, doing so with his palms held up flat and a straight-faced expression, all in the hopes that it would persuade Angelica from unleashing one of her simmering heat-blasts at him, "I asked you because I really do want to take you to the dance."

And with those words, Bobby was able to convince Angelica of the sincerity behind them, as she quickly powered herself down and the energies surging through her body now began to rapidly dissipate.

"Well, in that case, I think that I'd LOVE to go with you!" Angelica excitedly said to Bobby, as they sat there together and she accepted his offer with a huge beaming smile on her face, which clearly displayed the pure elation that she was currently feeling.

"Cool." Was Bobby's one-word exclamation point to their conversation, but not to the mutually-shared attraction that Bobby and Angelica seemed to share for one another. For that, this was perhaps just the beginning for the pair.

But, as Bobby and Angelica were sitting there under the tree together, smilingly gazing at one another with a newfound fascination for the other, another individual passing by off in the distance now decided to make his feelings about one of them known as well.

Not with actual words, but rather he announced his presence through a creepy, tingling sensation that shot up Bobby's spine to his brain and made his skin crawl. Having experienced this form of neural stimulus once before, even though this current jolt had hit him at an extremely low-level, Bobby knew that there was only one person in the world who could be responsible, one with whom there was certainly no love lost between either of them.

"He'd better be glad the Professor said he wanted us to play nice from now on with those jerk-offs from the Kinross Academy, after we all wound up trashin' the school. Else, I'd be all over his stuck-up ass right now!" Bobby said to Angelica, with tremendous acerbation in his voice, as he rebounded from this physical agitation, shaking off its after-effects while taking great offense at this deliberate attempt to provoke him into another fight.

Bobby and Angelica both sat and looked out across the commons, only to be met by the sneering visage of one Manuel de la Rocha being returned in their direction. Who, just happened to be passing by now on his way to his next period class and decided to play his own twisted-idea of a practical joke on Bobby. Manuel had used his mutant empathic and emotion-altering powers at their most base-form, like a neurologically-charged joy buzzer, he then turned loose on Bobby. It was a trick, which Manuel had learned and then co-opted from one of his own more psi-inclined teammates.

As he eyed Manuel intensely and watched as this young man from the rival academy continued on without further incident, this was one joke whose punch line Bobby certainly didn't get, or even found in the least bit funny. But, it was one that Bobby had every intention of paying back in full, and at some point in the near future…

**………………………………………………………………**

Next Chapter: **Red & Slim, out and about**…


	8. Enjoy the Silence, Everything Counts

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 8- Enjoy The Silence

_Midtown Manhattan, New York_-

In the famed Rockefeller Center, its annual arrival of the larger than life Christmas tree now being erected in its main plaza indicated that the beginning of the holiday season was just around the corner.

And for Jean Grey and Scott Summers, being right here and right now this evening gave them one last chance to take in this sight before it was completely inundated under a flood of holiday shoppers and tourists drawn there. It also gave the happy couple an opportunity to steal a few relatively private moments away for themselves, which was something that they weren't always afforded the luxury of due to the unique nature of the lives that they led as members of the X-Men.

"I'm glad you suggested this." Jean cooingly sighed, as she closed her eyes and stood on the balcony observation that overlooked Rockefeller Center's lower plaza, where a few individuals below were making use of the skating rink located in its center.

"Me too." Scott replied from where he was standing, which was behind Jean and slightly off to her left.

As Scott stood there, he did so with one arm firmly wrapped around Jean's waist just below the bottom of her coat, his gloved hand now snugly intertwined with one of hers. All the while, Scott's chin gently rested upon Jean's left shoulder, the side of his face lightly brushing up next to lengthy crimson locks that scintillated down her back.

The pair now gazed out across the rink area, where their attention was drawn to the golden Prometheus statue that served as the plaza's focal attraction, but more so to the huge 70-foot tall spruce tree right behind it that was in the process of being decorated. Jean then, with the speed and ease of thought, used her mutant telepathic abilities to reach out and link her mind with Scott's.

"_With the holidays coming up, at least it'll give us something positive to look forward to."_ Jean now mind-spoke to Scott through their powerful psychic-rapport, "_Things've been so tense for the last few days, especially with everyone around the house, I guess I just hadn't realized how much of an effect it was starting to have on me." _

"_I think this whole Creed-thing's just got the rest of the gang a bit on edge."_ Scott replied, as they continued their mental conversation and further drew into their own cloistered world, which kept the outside one at bay, if for only a moment.

Which, helped a little to take their minds off of the fact that Graydon Creed had recently just become the state's new Governor-elect. It was a reality that had sparked intense and outspoken debate from both sides of the mutant issue. And, none more so than with ESU's student-body, where it had managed to create an almost polarizing effect among them. Scott in particular had been closely observing the impact that this turn of events was having on him and Jean, and on their friends around them, particularly with the rest of their housemates. And, it was for this very reason that he had suggested to Jean about them making this unplanned and impromptu excursion out tonight.

Just the two of them.

"_Can you blame them? You heard that acceptance speech Creed made after he won. With the way some of those local TV commentators were talking, you can't help but get the feeling that he's getting ready to declare us mutants' as public enemy number one."_ Jean anxiously expounded upon, as she now looked back over her shoulder at Scott for a brief moment, while referring to Creed's inflammatory comments where he had actually gone so far as to call Bayville's X-Men and Brotherhood out by name, "_Plus, it hasn't been that long since Bayville was almost on the verge of its own mini-civil war between mutants and humans, which we luckily managed to help avoid. You know it's not going to take too much to set the extremists from either faction off and have them start going at it all over again."_

"_Hopefully, things won't get back to that point." _Scott reassuringly replied to Jean and gave her a kiss on the side of her neck, feeling her apprehension and the effect that this latest situation was having on her through their shared rapport.

"_Yeah, hopefully. Still, it would be nice to have someone up there on TV on our side, for a change. To at least counter the fear and misinformation that Creed and those hate-mongers like him keep on using to their advantage_." Jean told Scott, as she caressingly wrapped both of her arms around Scott's now more muscular one, which was still gently clinging around her hip and most of her waist region.

"_Now that you brought it up, I do remember a conversation that me and the Professor had with Warren about something like that awhile back. He suggested that the Professor go out and hire a professional PR group to help with our public image, since the X-Men have become pretty high-profile figures now. Warren even recommended a top-notch firm to us where one of his old friends works, and who supposedly has a few contacts that could arrange to get a network camera-crew to come and follow us around. Warren said it might help to put us all in a better light by showing some of the good that we try to do for the entire community. And to at least refute those negative stories about us just being a buncha out of control, irresponsible mutant vigilantes." _Scott told Jean, through their strong mental bond, "_But, nothing ever really came of it. Maybe I should bring it back up to the Professor the next time I talk to him?_"

"_Maybe."_ Jean telepathically responded with a bit of aloofness now on her part, as she began to re-evaluate her initial position.

As she weighed the pros and cons of this prospect, Jean was unsure about whether this suggestion was actually a wise one? Even though they had gained a distinct level of public notoriety ever since that first televised Sentinel battle over in New Jersey, Jean certainly didn't want herself or the rest of the X-Men to end up being portrayed as nothing more than reality-TV caricatures of themselves. Meanwhile, Scott continued to feel this overwhelming sense of unease coming from Jean through their rapport, which he knew had to do with more than just camera crews or even new governors weighing on her mind.

Much more.

Scott had been picking these vibes up from Jean for quite some time now, even if she wouldn't admit it to him. Scott hadn't been able to put a definite finger on what was the cause of these feelings of dread continually being relayed to him subconsciously from the love of his life, but he did have a pretty good idea of WHEN it had first started.

One night a number of months back when David Haller, in the guise of his alter-personality Lucas reappeared, he unleashed a devastating surprise attack against all of the X-Men. It was all part of Lucas' bid for ultimate revenge against Professor Xavier, for the perceived neglect that he had believed himself to have been the recipient of from his father. Lucas thought that Professor Xavier's pursuit of his dream for peaceful mutant co-existence, and the attention that he had lauded on his students as a result, to be the principal and root cause of their life-long estrangement. During his fight with the X-Men, Lucas had made it a point to quickly incapacitate Professor Xavier, before proceeding to once again knock Scott unconscious as well. Lucas then abducted the pair, threatening to psychically obliterate both his father and his apparent prototypical X-Man as part of his personal vendetta.

It was a threat with an unforeseen consequence, however, as it instantly sent Jean into an uncontrolled and maddened frenzy.

After frantically, yet rather easily tracking them down, Jean was forced into a fated confrontation with Lucas. The pair engaged in a psychic duel in the abyssal nether-region known as the astral plane, where Jean this time around more than proved herself ready to face Lucas. Lucas made the mistake of underestimating Jean's abilities and her overriding desire to fight for both her mentor, and most especially, for the man that she loved. Which, wound up becoming a misstep that would cost Lucas dearly.

In the course of their battle, Jean was left with little choice but to push her powers far beyond the safeguards and limitations that she and Professor Xavier had consciously placed upon them. The result from this most desperate conflict was that Jean wound up completely shattering Lucas' presence in her effort to stop him, dispersing his psychic essence back out to the four corners of the astral plane.

But, not too long afterwards Scott began to notice a considerable change that was retained in Jean's personality. In stark contrast to her mindset prior to this showdown with Lucas, Jean now seemed less afraid and far more at ease with her powers, no longer relying on the mental barriers that Professor Xavier had placed in her mind to help control them. In fact, Jean also showed a greater willingness to use these amplified powers of hers, which at times, made it seem as though she actually relished now having them at her disposal.

In addition, Scott also detected other changes in her and observed a slight shift in Jean's temperament as a result of these increased powers, with her becoming more prone to bouts of extreme moodiness. These episodes were usually associated with Jean's infrequently occurring migraine headaches, but sometimes came about for no discernible reason at all, at least from none that Scott was able to tell. And, given just how important and how much Jean had come to mean to him, by giving his life more meaning and love than he ever thought was possible, Scott couldn't help but to worry about what exactly was going on with his lady-love?

"_Scott, I have a great idea! Let's take in a movie?"_ Jean now unexpectedly and out-of-the blue suggested to Scott, showing that she could be just as spontaneous as him.

"_Okay, sure."_ Scott responded in agreement, as they now turned around to head out of the main plaza and off towards a local multiplex located nearby between here and Times Square, which was a few blocks away.

The couple then continued on with their conversation via psi-communication, which was something that Scott and Jean tried to limit to these times when they were alone. This aspect of their relationship seemed, to an extent, to have an unnerving effect on their teammates'. Particularly, when the two of them would just stare and stare at each other, and then suddenly burst out laughing about a joke or comment that no one else in the room with them had even heard, let alone were able to get.

As they left the heart of Rockefeller Center, Scott and Jean made a brief stop-off at a small pretzel shop nearby, to buy one and share it together along the way.

"_So, what do you think we should see?"_ Scott asked Jean, as they came out and he held the warm soft-pretzel wrapped in a thin, tissue-like paper in his hand.

"_I don't have a clue. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what's playing when we get there."_ Jean replied, as they made their way along this Manhattan sidewalk now bustling with other pedestrians.

Then, as Scott went to break off a piece of the baked snack, he immediately received a helping hand. Although to be accurate, it was help given without any hands actually having to be used at all.

"_Here you go, man o' mine."_ Jean thought with a coltish grin, as she used her telekinetic abilities to slice off a section of the pretzel with a surgeon's precision, before mentally floating it up through the air towards Scott's face.

"_Thanks for the, uh…assist there."_ Scott replied with a noticeable smirk, all the while trying to cover for the fact that Jean had caught him by surprise with her display. Doing so by dutifully chewing on this more than modest morsel, which had been so thoughtfully placed into his mouth.

"Anytime." Jean smilingly said, now breaking off their telepathic link and began to speak to Scott aloud once again.

Jean then found a new task for her hands, which currently weren't busy with anything in particular at the moment, by tightly clasping them onto Scott's other forearm and drawing herself closely into him as they walked on. It was something of a physical representation of the way that Scott helped to keep her anchored, whether it be by serving as a symbolic guide through a side-walk packed with other New Yorkers', or by providing Jean with someone so close to her that she could mentally focus on amid the myriad of thoughts that incessantly flowed through her.

Jean sometimes felt as though she were being smothered in a constant wash of thoughts and emotions around her coming into her all at once from an entire city, and from beyond. Unable to completely shut them out of her mind, in spite of how powerful she may have now become, Jean labored and struggled with even beginning to process all of this unfettered activity bouncing around in her mind.

Having to channel such a remarkable burden on a virtually non-stop basis would have driven most people mad by now. But, Jean simply did her best to deal with it, all the while trying to keep her wits about her without tipping Scott off to the full extent of the difficulties that her increased powers had been causing for her. Which, turned out to be just as much of a daunting task to conceal in its own right.

A daunting task indeed…

**……………………………………………………**

Prologue- Everything Counts

_-New York City, Upper East Side_

In this wealthy and upscale section of Manhattan sits Worthington Towers, the affluent apartment complex owned by the family who served as the building's namesake. And, within one of these upper-level luxury penthouse suites lives Warren Worthington III, the heir apparent to this building along with the vast business and financial empire that his family controls. And with the unique resources at his disposal, both economic and otherwise, Warren has made the conscious decision to use them to try and make a difference in the world around him.

As he sits alone in his darkened living-room this night watching numerous television screens stacked together, which take up an entire living-room wall by themselves, he observes a world through these various broadcast feeds locally and abroad that appears to be spinning out of control at an increasingly accelerated pace. Which, is something that this self-proclaimed Avenging Angel is determined that he won't just sit back and passively allow to happen. Not if he can help it, anyways.

Even, if this meant him having to become subtlely more pro-active in his approach, in part by enlisting the aid of unlikely allies in these covert efforts that he was now involved in helping to orchestrate.

"You're early." Warren shortly said when he suddenly detected a presence in the room, addressing this other individual without even bothering to turn his attention away from the TV monitors before him.

Warren had the back of the large armchair that he was seated in turned towards the penthouse balcony's sliding glass doors. Doors that, until a few brief moments ago, had been closed and securely locked behind him.

"Never say dat I'm a man who don't know what it mean to be punctual." Remy Lebeau now replied, standing in a shadowed area near the now slightly ajar balcony door.

"And while an added bonus, wasn't the main reason that I originally contracted your highly-touted services." Warren sneeringly said, as he grabbed a remote control from the coffee table in front of him, so that he could turn the volume down on all of televisions simultaneously. Warren then got up from his chair to turn around and face this master thief standing in his apartment with him, who apparently was his expected company.

Wearing an almost half-smile on his face now, Warren allowed the spanning white-feathered wings protruding from his back that appeared through the specially-tailored openings of his long-sleeved dress shirt, to partially unfurl outward as he made his way over to Gambit.

"So, did you bring it?" Warren now asked, stopping just a few feet away from him.

"You think I'd be here if I didn't?" Remy rhetorically answered, his features not fully visible in the dimness of the room. Save for his eerily red eyes that seemed to cast an unnatural glow in this nocturnal environment, along with a grin that was worth every bit as much as the vast millions' that the Worthingtons' controlled.

Remy fished around in the lower right pocket of his brown trench-coat and then quickly withdrew, gesturing with his partially-closed hand out towards Warren.

"Got all the info you wanted saved on here, plus a few extra tid-bits I t'ink you might find interestin'. No additional charge for dat either." Remy was saying, as their hands' met in a momentary handshake, before Remy left a small flash memory-stick in Warren's palm.

"I'll make sure it gets put to good use." Warren responded, briefly holding the memory stick up in between his thumb and forefinger, before putting it into his front pant-pocket.

Warren then turned back around, using the remote still in his other hand to turn the volume on one of the wall-mounted televisions back up. Which just so happened to be tuned to a national cable news network that was re-broadcasting part of Graydon Creed's gubernatorial acceptance speech, as panelists now debated the merits of what was said in the context of overall mutant rights' issues.

"Real good use." Warren reiterated, his mood changing as quickly as the TV channel, while he pulled the memory stick back out of his pocket and solemnly held it up in his grasp.

"S'funny thing, what they say about politics makin' strange bedfellows." Remy now said, as he took a few steps forward and stood parallel with Warren.

"Why do you say that?" Warren briefly turned his head to the side and asked, as the two men looked on at the TV monitors.

"Well, 'cause dat rule don't always apply to just politics only." Remy explained, but did so with a rather cryptic smirk, "You'll see what I mean when you load dat thing up."

Referring to the item he had just given to Warren, and with a slight nod of his head towards it, Remy then turned back around to make his exit from the penthouse suite.

"I'll be in touch again soon." Warren now said, his gaze however still fixated on the lone TV screen amongst the others on the far side of the room, which was tuned to GNN and was the only one that currently had audio emanating from it.

"Fine. You know the number." Remy replied, as he slid the balcony door back open without so much as a creak being heard.

"With a Swiss directory extension. I remember." Warren remarked, although he wasn't sure how much if his comment that Gambit actually heard before running and leaping off over the balcony's edge, to join a city that never sleeps down below.

And, while remaining up here in his own secluded perch above said city, as it were, Warren prepared to do much the same in his own way. As he went to retake his seat, Warren prepared to resume his analysis of what was being relayed through these various global broadcast feeds that he had tapped into.

To better ready himself for a new day. And, for a new tomorrow…

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Next Chapter: **An Angel in the midst of a Disco Inferno**…


	9. Disco Inferno, Fade to Grey

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………**

Chapter 9- Disco Inferno

_New York City, Hell's Kitchen_-

The Numero Uno-

Even within the electric atmosphere of this rough-and-tumble nightclub located in an equally reciprocating section of New York, a sultry yet unmistakably powerful voice easily emanated itself throughout and over the unrestrainedly raucous roar of the patrons gathered within. For this aspiring singer who was currently on stage, the challenge of starting out another musical set in front of an unresponsive, and at times even hostile crowd, was one that she readily accepted.

And, one that a part of her had even come to look forward to.

The thrill of being able to ultimately draw them in, sometimes just on the strength of her singing ability alone, was an excitement, an exhilaration, that she was unable to express in words to anyone who had never themselves experienced it first-hand. And tonight, it seemed as though she were more than up to the task of trying to work her own brand of magic on this group of paying spectators before her.

With the spotlight now centered on this curvaceous strawberry-blonde, Alison Blaire looked out onto the dimmed dance-floor and at those seated at the surrounding tables in front of her. Despite the fact that she was decked out in basic black denim and a simple black tee that had her band's name screen-printed across the front in bright neon-pink, it still turned out to be a total combined package that Alison was able to so effortlessly maneuver around up there, and did so with a mockingly flirtatious swagger to her stride. Backed up by staccato drumbeats and guitar riffs that wailed forth from this electro-punk band, whose other members were positioned right behind her just out of the spotlight's illumination, Alison went and firmly grabbed her mic away from its stand.

And as they hit the first bridge of this high-energy drenched number, she unflinchingly belted out verse after resounding verse to, and for, HER audience. So confident was Alison in her own artistry, that she felt this night not only could she truly dazzle this crowd now in attendance to watch her performance, but believed that she could just as easily win over anyone else. If, she were only given half a chance.

Which was a rather ironic inclination for her to be currently feeling, given whom one of the individuals seated out in the audience and who was attentively watching her performance happened to be.

From his vantage at a table, which itself was located as far to the back of this club as possible and still remain within its walled confines, Warren Worthington III found himself riveted to the sight of Dazzler's lead-singer strutting her stuff across the stage. All the while as flamboyant lighting-effects began to flash around Alison from out of nowhere, and then elaborately projected throughout the rest of club as well, Warren sat there absolutely captivated by her. With his chin gently propped-up on the table against his slightly-balled fist, Warren watched Alison with the patience and serious concentration of a most ardently devoted fan.

Which was essentially what Warren had become, more or less, ever since he had first begun following the career of one Alison Blaire over the last few months. In that time, Warren had come to realize just how obviously dedicated Alison was to her craft. He could see how deep her passion for performing was, just in her presence up there on stage and in just how much Alison appeared to relish these opportunities to entertain others. This it only served to further reaffirm to Warren that she was indeed the perfect choice, for what it was he had in mind for her.

Once Dazzler had finished with their set-list about twenty minutes later, Alison and her band left the stage to cheers and applause, which was a clear and tell-tale sign that they had put on a show that their audience had enjoyed. Otherwise, their departure would have been accelerated and most-likely accompanied by empty beer bottles and/or furniture being thrown in their direction, which was known to happen on occasion in the Numero Uno for those acts that its crowd felt didn't give them their money's worth that night. As they came off-stage and were heading for their dressing rooms, Dazzler was met in the small, tucked-away rear hallway by one of the other house-bands at the Numero Uno.

And by their lead-singer, whom a few members of Dazzler had something of a personal history with as well.

"You guys managed to put on a pretty sick show tonight. Even if you were bellowing a bit off-key through some of it, Ali." A short brunette smirked and snidely said, her modest British-accent noticeable as she stood next to a couple of her own band-mates.

Who themselves were grinning at this compliment that had been wrapped around a slightly disparaging remark, as they had also been watching Dazzler perform tonight, standing alongside their own lead-singer from the entrance of this backstage area.

"I guess if anyone would know about singing off-key, you'd be the expert on it Lila." Alison replied in kind, as she quickly ran her hand back through her perspire-dampened blonde locks, and both ladies each turning their nose up at the other.

The members of Dazzler then proceeded to make their way past these seemingly rival band-members of Cat's Laughing. But, before she was able to take more than a few steps, Lila Cheney shot off one more verbal jab, which once again was directed specifically at Alison.

"I see your rich, cute blonde is back again tonight." Lila now said to Alison, pointing out through the backstage entrance and out towards the rear of the club, zeroing in on a handsome individual attired in a tailor-made gray Armani, just as another band was taking the stage and about to perform.

"Like I told you before what, exactly, makes you think he's my cute-blonde?" Alison turned and defensively replied, raising a heavily-mascaraed eyebrow as the rest of Dazzler continued on towards their dressing room, while the decidedly rougher and more nu-metal sounds of Hubert Us now began to rattle off from the stage throughout the club.

"Well, since he only shows up around here when you guys're booked to play, and then doesn't stick around for too long afterwards, I'd say it's pretty obvious why." Lila smiled and flatly replied, her exposed fingers now tightly clutched around the neck of her Gibson Blackbird guitar, as they poked out through the holes of the black biker-glove she was wearing on her hand, "Rumor is, he's even bought a stake in the Numero Uno from Stevie. And that would certainly explain why some of us seem to have mysteriously gotten the top billing around here all of a sudden?"

Just shaking her head and deciding that she didn't have any more time to waste on her former band-mate's jealous barbs, Alison did an about-face and walked away from Lila and the rest of her band, continuing on alone down the narrow corridor to her own dressing room.

**………………………………………………………………**

After changing out of her stage-gear, Alison decided to wind down a bit by hanging out with the rest of her bandmates, along with members some of the other house acts at the Numero Uno, back out inside the club. After a couple rounds from the bar, and more than a few conversational exchanges of a fairly bawdy nature from Alison's band-mates that centered around them mostly teasing her about the 'pretty-face' who had come to watch her perform, and whom Lila had pointed-out to all of them in the audience earlier, Alison eventually decided it was time to call it a night.

Following a final round of good-nights and a shoring up of their rehearsal-schedule for the following day, Alison made her way over to one of the exits, which led out into the Numero Uno's rear-alley.

But, Alison would almost immediately realize that she hadn't gone out there all by herself.

"You know, it's probably not a good idea to walk around out here this late at night, all alone." An unknown voice now unexpectedly said to Alison, startling her just as she had taken a few steps out into the aforementioned darkened alley. At the exact same moment, the rear-entrance door to the club loudly slammed closed behind her, shutting off the permeative and familiar aroma of sweat and stale beer that consistently came from inside of the Numero Uno, which was something that could very easily overpower the senses of a newcomer.

"Haven't you heard, New York's one of the safest cities in the world these days? At least, that's what I keep on hearing." Alison whimsically replied, after turning to see the blonde gentleman, whom had been the subject of so much talk around her this evening, now standing a mere few feet away from her, "Besides, you don't seem too worried about hanging out in the dark here yourself?"

"Well, it's not so much hanging out, as trying to find the right opportunity to talk to you. Alone." Warren replied, having decided this evening to stick around for a little longer than usual, as he now stepped out of the shadows that fell right next to the club's entrance, coming out into the scant light afforded by a streetlight down at the alleyway's end, "I've been following your career, ever since I saw you and your band open at Retch-fest, and I've become a really huge fan. I was waiting out here to talk to you, because I think I have an offer that would be mutually beneficial for the both of us."

"Uh. Huh. I'm sure. Like a suit like you'd ever be caught dead at Retch-fest." Alison rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over in front of her, as she sarcastically replied with more than a fair hint of cynicism to her tone, "Thanks, but I'm not interested in whatever 'offer' it is you've got in mind for me."

Although she hadn't made it into the big leagues as a professional singer yet, Alison had been around long enough, and had dealt with enough of these smooth and slick-talking guys' with promises of helping her reach super-stardom, to know to pretty much steer clear of these creeps' and their sleazy, ulterior-motives. But, just as Alison was slowly and guilefully sliding her hand into the purse slung across her shoulder, readying a small can of pepper spray in the event that she needed it to deal with this new 'fan' of hers, Warren's earlier sentiments suddenly seemed to ring of truth, as they were both joined in this dim alley. But, these new additions could hardly be considered fans themselves, or having even come there with friendly intentions for that matter.

"All right you two, hand over your purse and cash, and no one has to end up gettin' hurt." One of these new individuals instructed them, as he and several of his compatriots all appeared from out of the shadows of the alley, sealing off each of its opposing ends.

Calling themselves the Blazin' Lords, this hardened street gang was itself just a small link in a new and much larger criminal wave suddenly operating throughout the greater New York City area. And just like their rivals, these low-level thugs were currently in the process of further expanding their own operating turf, which is what had brought them all the way into Hell's Kitchen.

Hell's Kitchen was an area of New York that was once, and some say still, heavily controlled by organized crime. This, in spite of the imprisonment a number of years ago of perhaps its most prominent family-figurehead Alexander Bont, who had been dubbed by the media at the time of his much-publicized trial as New York's Kingpin of Crime.

But to make a name for themselves in this notoriously gritty neighborhood, word needed to get around that the Blazin' Lords were definitely not to be messed with. Which, certainly didn't portend a promising outcome for either Alison or Warren, since one of these thugs was wielding a 9mm semi-automatic gun that he had trained on the pair, with the others around him holding either knives or an assortment of other deadly weapons. All were at the ready, to be used to make their point to these two individuals who were just caught at the wrong place, at definitely at the wrong time.

But not one to sit around and simply allow fate to run its course, Alison shocked Warren by her quick and decisive reaction in this perilous situation.

"Hey, 'cute-blonde'! Quick, close your eyes!"

With a concentrating glare and less than a thought, Alison's body began to glow with a bright light that quickly lit up the entire alley. This unexplained radiance instantly blinded the armed thugs, and even managed to affect Warren to a far lesser extent, despite her having forewarned him and even though his own eyes had been closed shut prior to this light-show display of hers.

"She must be some kinda mutie-freak!" One of the thugs shouted, as he and some of his cohorts dropped their weapons to clutch at their faces with their hands, an instinctive reaction to the searing pain that they were now feeling from Alison's strobe-like emittance.

"You'd better get out of here! I think I can hold them off for a while with another flash." Alison shouted, looking right at Warren as she prepared to carry through with a repeat of this back-alley lightshow.

And while she had never been taught how to use her powers as an offensive weapon, Alison was sure enough in her ability to use them that she feel confident in at least being able to back up this assertion of hers. But, Warren was hearing none of it, and he sure as hell wasn't about to run away from this fight to leave her behind to fend for herself.

Although, flying might be a different story.

"No way am I leaving you behind here!" Warren suddenly shouted out in response to her, as an angered expression washed over his face.

Just as unexpectedly as Alison had lit this alleyway up like a midnight-star, Warren was now the one who left her speechless when a pair of large white feathered-wings suddenly shot up and out the back of his suit coat. Warren then leapt up into the air like a high-jumper, but without a running start, and soared up like a hawk. This, just as a couple of the threatening hoods had gotten their bearings, and more importantly their weapons, back.

But before any of these thugs could act on this rapidly rediscovered poise, an avenging Angel dove back down from the sky above and swooped right into them. Warren swiftly punched and grabbed them, tossing them into garbage cans, dumpsters, and into the bricked-exterior of the Numero Uno itself, all in a flurried bid to disarm and knock these gang-bangers out cold in the process. And not wanting to stick around to make sure that these attempted muggers were down for the count, Warren came back down and landed close by Alison.

But, he had no intention of remaining there for very long.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?!" Alison demanded to know, as Warren abruptly picked her up, scooping her up into his arms.

"Making a hasty retreat, m'lady." Warren replied, nodding his head towards her and laying his most chivalrous tone on Alison through a perfectly gleaming smile.

And without any further warning, this pair was pulled airborne up into the nighttime sky, leaving the brutality of this alleyway in the rear of the Numero Uno behind. But as Alison and Warren exited this scene with unconscious thugs on the ground scattered all about, their departure did not go completely unnoticed.

While an angel had, ironically enough, just taken flight from this back-alley scullery of Hell's Kitchen, a devil clad in crimson, who himself claimed this entire Kitchen as his own unofficial den, had been drawn here from a few blocks away when he sensed that there was a disturbance taking place. He had arrived just in time to observe the last few moments of this brawling eruption, doing so from his temporary perch at the edge of a nearby rooftop terrace.

And as his symbolic counterpart now rose and flew up towards the heavens directly above this section of New York, which itself seemed to simultaneously represent both the best and worst that the city had to offer, this Man Without Fear also prepared to move on as well. But for him, there would be no flying up and away.

No, his place was here, maintaining his never-ending vigil over Hell's Kitchen, protecting the innocents down below caught in the crossfire of a new and violent war being waged for control of these streets. Even if that meant him night-in and night-out taking on the pimps, pushers, and other low-level hustlers in this neighborhood, or going head to head with the far more coordinated factions of The Cosa Nostra, The Westies, Red Mafiya, Triads, or even The Yakuza.

Or, as had been the case of late, some mysterious new criminal syndicate, which appeared to be far more insidious in their scope and in their reach…

**………………………………………………………………**

Despite the fact that she was flying over the NYC skyline, Alison managed to maintain an unnerved silence at the reality that she was now soaring hundreds of feet up in the air, with only a pair of generous arms standing between her and the crushing pavement far below. But just as unexpectedly, she began to grow somewhat accustomed to this birds-eye view of the world, becoming comfortable enough with the very notion of being up here that she was even starting to like it. Alison then thought to herself that maybe it wasn't so bad having your own personal guardian angel after all? And she even began to wonder to herself if this wasn't what Lois Lane must've felt like?

But, Alison's train of thought soon reverted back to her previously skeptical stance, with regard to her angel's true intentions. Particularly, when it became apparent to Alison that he was taking her back to the apartment building where she lived, all without needing to even ask her for directions. Which, caused her to once again speculate on her previous stalker-theory about him?

Although, after seeing the wings and having had the opportunity to get a better look at him during their brief aerial jaunt, Alison did finally recognize who this mystery man was? And with that knowledge, she now had a much better inkling as to why, and more importantly how, he was be able to pull off such amazing feats as the ones' he had this night.

Landing on the fire-escape right outside of an old tenement-styled building, which was located in this working-class neighborhood over on West 9th, Warren then released Alison from his cradling embrace on a small platform right outside of her own apartment. Alison was a bit anxious at being able to once again plant a firm-foot back down on the ground, but instantly did so on the platform's steel grating as she and Warren now stood out there and picked up their previously-interrupted conversation anew.

"I guess it's not everyday that a girl gets rescued by her own personal super-hero, at least outside of the comic-pages anyways?" Alison humorously remarked as she faced the now identified Warren Worthington III, her hands clasped down in front of her and with a surprisingly nervous-fidget to her current posture.

"Trust me, I'm not a super-hero." Warren candidly replied to her, his tone carrying with it a discernible air of honest self-evaluation to it.

"At this point, after everything that's happened tonight, you don't have to worry about trying to hide your secret identity from me. I mean, the whole world knows all about you, ever since you came out on TV as the high-flying billionaire angel." Alison responded with a smirk on her face, referring to hoopla surrounding Warren's public revelation that he was a mutant, which had happened nearly a year ago now, "Besides, I've seen you with your X-Men friends' on TV mixin' it up with the major big bads', like with that one dinosaur-guy you chased all over lower Manhattan."

"In that case, I'll give Sauron your regards next time we run into him." Warren light-heartedly replied, "But I'm not a member of the X-Men. Well, not an official one anyways. I just lend them an occasional helping hand, when they need it."

"Hmm…you know what they say, birds of a feather and all that? Pun definitely intended." Alison laughed and bluntly commented, "So, you were saying, you know before, that you wanted to talk to me about something important?"

"Yeah, I did." Warren confirmed, as he then gestured with his hand to Alison, desiring to go inside so that they could talk some more. Alison responded by going over to the fire-escape window to open it, before the pair proceeded through it into her apartment.

After climbing in and down off of a small window-side bench, Alison led Warren into the apartment's small interior, turning on a couple of lights as she continued on and over to an even smaller kitchenette area, while Warren went and took a seat on a nearby living-room sofa.

"Here you go." Alison said to Warren a few moments later, as she returned with two bottles of water and handed one of them to him. Which, she had gotten from a refrigerator that currently had precious little else in at the moment, save for an almost empty bottle of ketchup and a days-old half loaf of bread.

Alison then went and took a seat up on the arm of her sofa at the end that was opposite from Warren, ironically enough perching herself up on it at an almost hawk-like angle, so that she could now stare down onto him.

"I'm tellin' you straight-up, if you came here because you're starting up some new mutant super-group and you wanted me to hook up as a part of it, my answer's no. Much as I might enjoy bein' a spectator, I've got no interest in that whole saving-the-world gig myself." Alison matter-of-fact said to Warren, as she twisted the cap off of the water bottle' in her hand and took a sizable swallow from it, "Besides, right now my music's my top-priority."

"Good, because that's what I actually wanted to talk to you about." Warren replied, as he sat his unopened bottle down onto the small coffee-table in front of him, "You know, there are a lot of ways to go about saving the world."

"Really?" Alison remarked, raising an eyebrow and allowing her ever-present skepticism to clearly shine through, as she sat on the very edge of the sofa-arm with her right leg propped firmly down on the hardwood floor beneath her for added support. In contrast, her modestly-tatooed left-arm casually hung down in front of her, loosely grasping a water bottle that was now smudged with dark-cherry colored lipstick around the rim of its opening.

"It's a dangerous time for mutants right now, with people like Graydon Creed in power, and always looking to grab more for themselves at our expense." Warren started, as he began to talk about the real reason that he had sought Alison out, doing so with Professor Xavier's assistance and advice, "With those opportunists trying to portray mutants in every negative light and connotation possible, it's time we began countering that with positive images of us in the public."

"Annndd…this has 'what' to do with me?" Alison curiously asked him.

"I want to make you an offer. With my resources and connections, I can help you and your band break into the music industry in a big way, and score you guys' a record deal with a major label." Warren revealed, "But in exchange, you'll be agreeing to tour, perform, and promote yourself as an openly known mutant-entertainer to the entire world."

"**No Shit**! And here I was thinking you were almost about to suggest something downright crazy." Alison instantly hurled a sarcastic answer to his offer, the mock-grin on her face quickly fading to show her true opinion of his proposal, "So, is coming out as a mutant the new 'in' closet that everyone's gonna start jumping out of now, Mr. Billionaire Angel?"

"No, but the time has come for someone else to seriously take another step out of it. I'm not talking about some cheap publicity stunt or marketing ploy being done just for attention. As a group, as a community, mutants can't allow the rest of the world to continue to define who we are, it's time that we took the responsibility of doing that for ourselves. We can't keep letting groups like the Friends of Humanity get away with trying to convince people that we're all 'mutie-terrorists', who think just like Magneto and are bent on world domination. Or even worse, that we're nothing more than abominations of nature that need to be rounded up and herded off into camps, in the interests of public safety." Warren now explained, showing that he had definitely put some very long and very serious thought into what he was proposing to her.

"There needs to be positive representation of us in every facet of normal life. Businessmen and women, athletes, teachers, politicians, and yes, even singers, showing that we are constructive and productive members of society too. Every single day, there are mutant kids in this country, and around the globe, who are waking up to the fact that they have these strange new powers, and that they're different. I don't know about you, but when I was thirteen and first started sprouting out like a chicken, I didn't understand what was going on and I was scared to death.

Especially, of my parents finding out about it.

It would've been nice back then if there had been someone out there for me to identify with. You know, like a role-model for me to look up to, to show me that I wasn't weird or turning into something straight outta Galaxy High." Warren finished, as he now twisted open the water bottle sitting before him.

"Man, I still know what you mean! Even now my parents don't know I'm a mutant, just the other guys in the band with me." Alison replied, as she could certainly relate to the point Warren was trying to make to her, "And, of course, those thugs we thoroughly whooped-ass on tonight!"

With her last remark, Alison then reached down and tapped her bottle with Warren's, in a sort of post-fight celebratory toast. A few moments of silence then passed between them, with Alison in deep contemplation as she was undoubtedly taking in everything that Warren had just said to her. Eventually though, after much internal mulling over Warren's offer, Alison did seem to reach an ultimate decision that was marked by her standing up from the temporary sofa-arm roost where she had been resting.

"You know, there're a lot of people out there who just aren't ready for something as in-their-face as this. I'm pretty sure I even know a few of them personally, although at this point, I don't think Mom and Dad finding out I'm a mutant'll make 'em think any less of me than they already do. Seeing as their opinion is already pretty low." Alison said to Warren, as she came and sat down on the sofa, this time right beside him, showing that she had warmed quite a bit to him and to his proposal following such a heartfelt sales-pitch.

"People usually never are ready for change, that's what comes with deciding to be pro-active. A big part of our job is going to be trying to overcome all of that resistance." Warren replied, as he sank back into the sofa he was seated in, "I already know from personal experience how frightening it can be to put yourself out there, the REAL you, for everyone else to see. That's why I'll be there with you every step of the way."

"You really think we're gonna pull this thing off?" Alison now asked Warren, as she turned to face him and leaned back against her sofa-arm, revealing her acceptance of his new plan for her career-path.

"I'm not going to lie, it won't be easy. And more than likely, they're probably going to put you through all kinds of hell over this. But, I wouldn't be here wasting both your and my time if I didn't have faith in you and your talents, or didn't truly believe that we could actually change things for the better." Warren replied to Alison with a most confident grin, as his mind instinctively went to work running through what their next moves were now going to be to make this endeavor successful, examining and re-examining it from every conceivable angle.

Meanwhile, Alison too began to give serious thought to the full implications of her choice, and to the impact that it was going to have on her and on the rest of her bandmates. And more importantly, how it was going to invariably and inevitably turn all of their lives completely upside down…

**………………………………………………………………**

Prologue- Fade To Grey

_Bayville, New York_

The Xavier Institute-

From the sanctity of his own private study, this Friday evening has found Professor Charles Xavier quietly passing the time in a place that he considered to be his own inner-sanctum within this school of sorts. Which was ironic, given that it was he who had originally opened up the doors of his family's home in the first place, doing so with the express purpose of creating a safe-haven for the highly-unique individuals that had been recruited to come here. It was here that they were taken in and shielded, as much as was possible, from the hostilities of an outside world, which seemed to still have quite a ways to go in fully accepting them for who and what they truly were.

Part of Professor Xavier's dream was that this Institute would become a refuge for these students of his, most of whom had arrived there at an age when not very much about their lives seemed to be making much sense to begin with, only to have this adolescent identity-crisis compounded by the knowledge that they were also mutants. It was here that Professor Xavier taught and trained these ordinary individuals, who had been born with such extraordinary gifts, to use them for the betterment of all man and mutantkind.

And while a fair number of them had passed through the hallowed halls of this Institute over the years, eventually graduating and moving on just as he had always intended, it still remained a most welcome occasion for him when one of those former pupils returned.

Even if it were for only a brief, and sometimes unannounced, homecoming.

"I guess the classics never really go out of style, do they?"

With these cheerful words spoken aloud, Professor Xavier couldn't help but quickly glance up from the book that was laying open in his lap, slowly closing it as he first looked over to the partially open doorway that led out into a now darkened hallway. Seeing no one there, he then curiously surveyed around his entire study in an attempt to discern the source of this comment, particularly since the Institute this evening was supposed to be otherwise unoccupied. Especially, of its younger residents, which in itself was a rarity. But more importantly, it was because it wasn't too often that a telepath of Professor Xavier's caliber could be caught so unawares by another's entrance.

As his specially-customized wheelchair rotated itself in a mechanized 360 degree angle to allow him to continue with this peripheral scan, Professor Xavier immediately noticed from out of the corner of one of his eyes that a book, one which held very special meaning to him, had begun an impromptu levitation from his desk all on its own, before stalling out in a suspended position a few feet right above it. Suddenly, the hovering book opened itself up and its pages began to slowly flip over, one after another, as if it were being ghost-read by this same mystery person who had apparently managed to slip so astoundingly close to him.

Professor Xavier's powerful mind then went to work in earnest, as he set about to the task of telepathically unveiling this invisible guest. And as an image of a female form began to take shape before his very eyes, it immediately revealed her identity to him as being that of a fairly recent graduate from his Institute. And, given all that she had been able to do just now, was without question a most-accomplished alum at that.

"I think a valid argument can be made that many works of literature, which continue to remain relevant to our current condition despite the length of time since their inception, can be considered classics. Which, I believe is a characteristic that itself rarely does go out of style, Ms. Grey." Professor Xavier at last replied with an insightful smile, as he sat with his back towards the large crystal-paned doors that led out to the study's small outdoor balcony, now looking back across the room to the opposite side of his desk where his former student now appeared.

"Actually, I was referring to the fact that you're still handing out the same reading-assignments, as when Scott and I first came here." Jean Grey replied, her apparition-like astral form materializing seemingly from thin-air, and becoming clearer and more pronounced by the second as she spoke to him.

Jean now appeared in the study in her navy and green X-uniform, the attached semi-hood left down around shoulder-level to let her disperse red hair flow unrestrained, as she lay the Professor's worn copy of T.H. White's The Once and Future King, which she had been holding, back down onto his desk amidst a wide assortment of other books and novels.

Although, 'holding' really wasn't an accurate description of her action, especially since Jean technically wasn't even there in the study with the Professor.

Jean's telepathic powers had grown to the point that she could now mentally project herself to others who were far away from her, even over very considerable distances. And with her telekinetic abilities having increased at an equally accelerated rate, Jean could also just as easily grasp solid objects, seemingly regardless of weight or size, wherever her astral form appeared. Which, did give the illusion that this virtual version of herself was actually there in person. And, these marked feats had helped to cement Jean's own classification by Cerebro as being a psi-talent of the first order.

"Actually, these reading assignments were around well before either you or Scott first set foot here at this Institute, Jean. A fact, which I'm fairly certain that Ororo would be more than happy to attest to." Professor Xavier now said, an even larger smile on his face, as his hand brushed across the hardbound cover of S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders, which remained closed and sitting on his lap, "Although, I have a feeling that your reason for coming here wasn't to listen to your former teacher lecture on his literary predilections?"

"No, but I did come here tonight because I think I could use some of my former teacher's advisement. I sensed that the Institute was pretty much empty, and thought it would give us a chance to talk in private." Jean now told the Professor, as she walked around from behind his desk to its front, although her phantom-like form made it appear as though she were kind of floating around it as she did, "It's just…I don't know, it's about my powers. I don't really know how to explain it. "

"Well, it is apparent from your display here tonight that your knowledge of the astral plane has now reached a new and remarkable level of mastery." Professor Xavier told her, as he wheeled over a few feet closer to Jean, "You have come quite a long ways in your ability to control and use your mutant powers."

"Yeah, that's just it." Jean responded, her tone far less enthusiastic, "Things that I use to have to struggle with, now they're just a snap for me."

"And, I believe that you have a great deal to be proud of in that regard. To have come so far, so fast, from fearing your powers, to now embracing them, is truly a great accomplishment and personal triumph." Professor Xavier now said to her.

Professor Xavier was always pleased to see his students' progress so steadily with learning and mastering the full-extent of their mutant abilities. And, he had long ago realized that, at least with respect to raw-power, Jean may very well have become his equal in this regard, if not already his better in some ways?

"But it's starting to feel like too much, too fast! And that's what's got me worried, Professor." Jean said, her arms wrapped around herself as she paced back and forth in front of his desk, taking a few steps in each direction, "I mean, look at what happened when I fought Lucas. It was the first time I pushed myself past those psychic barriers you placed in my mind to protect me from my powers, and right out of the gate I totally lost it and unleashed them against your own son without giving it a second-thoug--"

"What you did, you did out of your concern for Scott's and my own well-being. With the Shadow King holding us hostage, and his managing to manipulate David's feelings of resentment and abandonment towards me in his own twisted plot for revenge on top of that fact, you were put into what was essentially a no-win situation. And as I have told you before, I would have done much the same thing were I put into your position." Professor Xavier sat and explained, with his hands clasped together in an arching position in front of him, "In fact, I too have been forced to make similarly difficult decisions myself."

"It's not just that. Even though I have these amazing new powers and abilities, a small part of me wants, it almost CRAVES, more. It's like that part of me wants to keep continually pushing myself even further, just to see what my limits are? To see, if I even have any limits?"

"It is only natural for you to want to learn the full-range of your powers."

"But, that's what truly frightens me, though. The thought of eventually losing myself in those powers and completely losing any control over them. Like before, but only worse." Jean revealed, "It's like my worst nightmare, one that wakes me up in the middle of the night sometimes. A lot of the time, actually."

"Jean, you have always demonstrated an exceptional level of care and responsibility when it has come to your mutant powers. And, I have the utmost faith that you will continue to do so." Professor Xavier reassuringly told her.

Following a brief pause in their conversation, Jean's posture seemed to relax a bit before she responded to the Professor's last assertion.

"I guess you're right. It's just, I haven't really been able to talk about this with anyone else on the team, especially with Scott. That's why I decided to come to you about how I've been feeling lately." Jean sighingly admitted, "But please, don't mention any of this to Scott. You know how he overreacts when he thinks there's even something slightly wrong."

"Of course." Professor Xavier promised her, albeit with a bit of internal trepidation accompanying his response.

Just then, both Jean and Professor Xavier paused their conversation again when they simultaneously sensed two new presences entering the mansion, who were now heading towards the study at this late hour. And with a mere cursory scan, Jean was able to sense a heightened level of emotion emanating from them.

"Hmm…it looks like our fun-loving Iceman may finally be getting serious about something?" Jean briefly remarked, with a more than casual smirk coming across her facial expression as she did.

Sensing that they were about to be joined there in the study in a few moments, and that this conversation of their was pretty much concluded by now anyways, Jean decided to make herself scarce.

"Thanks for letting me take up your time tonight listening to my problems. I know how crazy things usually are around here, and how rare it is for you to have some alone time for yourself."

"Even though you and your fellow X-Men may have graduated, this Institute is still your home. Never hesitate to come here when you feel the need, and you all should know by now that my door is always open." Professor Xavier told her, as a small smile crept up again, "Even, if more and more of my former students these days seem to no longer have the need to actually open it?"

"I'll try to keep that in mind. Talk to you again soon." Jean cheerfully replied, as her astral image quickly faded away and then completely disappeared.

Jean's previously-split mental focus now realigned and psychically reassembled itself in her physical body back at the unofficially dubbed 'X-House' in Manhattan, which was the townhouse residence and headquarters of the X-Men's Red-Team, and where Jean had been sitting this entire time on the living room's sofa watching a new DVD rental with Kitty and Rogue. Although unbeknownst to her fellow housemates during the majority of this flick, Jean's mind had literally been somewhere else.

And while one of his former students' had just made her exit, and two of his current students' now approached his study, Professor Xavier simply sunk back into his chair and into a silent self-analysis. By helping his students' to become more proficient in the control and use of their powers, Professor Xavier had hoped that it would help to mitigate the fear expressed towards them by non-mutants, by showing the world that mutants were not a danger to them that need be feared nor hated.

But, Professor Xavier's thoughts had once again drifted back to the supposed clairvoyant glimpses he had seen, which now seemed so long ago, when his mind was briefly linked to that of En Sabah Nur's. Particularly, on an image that centered around one of their own, on one of his students', being completely consumed by an insatiable lust for power that ultimately turned her against them and against everything that they believed in, to become one of the X-Men's greatest nemesis.

Although he was a man who believed firmly that the future was something to be forged and was not pre-ordained, and had later dismissed these visions as nothing more than the twisted and imagined hallucinations of an obvious madman, Professor Xavier couldn't help but find himself slowly becoming more worried about those disturbing images that he had been privy to. Especially, since he was also well aware that absolute power had the ability to corrupt absolutely, even when it came to those possessed of the most noble of spirits.

And in spite of the physical hardships that he had been forced to face in his life, which Professor Xavier had never allowed to handicap him, it was at this very moment that he had never felt more helpless. Unsure of how to, or even if he could, help someone he cared about so deeply, who was so desperately reaching out to him for his expert guidance…

**………………………………………………………………**

Next Chapter: **The Big Dance!**


	10. Dancing in the Dark

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**……………………………………………………………..**

Chapter 10- Dancing in the Dark

_Bayville, New York_

The Xavier Institute-

_Friday Night_…

"Well, what do you think?"

This was the question now excitedly posed by one Angelica Jones, resident of the Xavier Institute and member of the X-Men's junior-squad code-named Firestar, as she stepped out from behind a folding four-panel screen in her bedroom.

"About what?" Was the response from Laura Logan, who herself also went by the code-name of X-23, and who also happened to be Angelica's roommate, as she lay face-up on her bed on the other side of their shared room.

Laura then opened her eyes to look over at Angelica, while simultaneously pulling off the small pair of earphones that she was wearing, which were connected to her personal pod-player that also lay on the bed beside her.

"My dress, of course. How do I look?" Angelica again asked, as she did a slow 360-degree twirl for Laura's benefit, to fully show off the simple yellow and red lacey-mesh dress that she had just changed into.

"Um…you look like a red-head in a dress." Laura raised an eyebrow and earnestly replied, now having completely sat up on the edge of her bed.

"C'mon, I'm being serious!" Angelica whined with an exasperated huff, wanting her roommate's honest assessment of her attire, "This is the first time I've ever been on a real date with a guy, and I'm not sure if its nice enough?"

"You look fine." Laura now told her dolled-up roommate with a reassuring smirk on her face, which relayed to Angelica that Laura had been playfully teasing her all along, "Bobby's probably gonna choke on an ice-cube or something when he sees you."

"Coming from you, I hope that means something good?" Angelica remarked, and did so with a small grin as well, as some of the anxiety that she had been feeling about her outfit was now starting to diminish.

"Trust me, it does." Laura, who remained all smiles, confirmed for Angelica.

"But, I still don't see why you aren't going? You're not going to have any fun just sitting around here all night by yourself." Angelica now said, which caused any cheerful sentiment remaining on Laura's face to quickly dissipate.

For the last few weeks, while the rest of the female-half of the Institute had been chipper and excited about the semi-formal dance that was fast-approaching, and with Angelica included among them, Laura had managed to keep a pretty level-head over the whole thing.

In, that she had no intention of wasting an entire night by being around the rest of the student body at Bayville High, the majority of whom generally didn't acknowledge her presence anyways, save for her fellow residents from the Institute. Plus, from what Laura had been able to casually gather about this thing over the last few weeks from the other girls' at the Institute, the whole point of going to these dances was to try and meet some mind-blowingly gorgeous guy who'd come up and sweep you off of your feet.

And, that was certainly the last thing that Laura cared about at this point in her life.

"Don't worry, I know how to keep myself entertained." Laura now replied, graciously turning down Angelica's offer. Just, as she had done the last three times this past week when Angelica had brought up the subject.

Laura knew that Angelica's persistence had stemmed from a genuine concern for her, which she appreciated, since Angelica was probably the closest thing to an actual best-friend she had made since arriving at the Institute. But, Laura had also made her mind up, and there wasn't anything that was going to change it.

Sensing this, Angelica told Laura that she would see her later, checked her hair and make-up one last time in the large desk-mirror that sat close to her bed, then grabbed her silk wrap and a small yellow purse and left to head downstairs. All the while, wishing that she could have thought of some way to convince her roommate to come along too.

Meanwhile, Laura laid back down on her bed, putting her earphones back on and cranking the volume on her pod-player all the way up. Downtime like this was an indulgence that Laura had come to appreciate more and more since coming to the Institute, which definitely had not been afforded to her under the watchful eye, and iron fist, of Madame Hydra. And, was a far healthier alternative to the self-mutilative method that Laura had been employing, as a means of releasing the stress and tension that she often felt from within.

Closing her eyes, Laura stretched out and relaxed, allowing herself to zone-out and become totally immersed in the tunes now streaming through her player. Music, which by happenchance, was from an up and coming neo-punk band that she had only just discovered recently, and had quickly become a favorite of hers…

**……………………………………………………………..**

Sitting near the foyer of the Institute's anterior, Bobby Drake now found himself in a place that was unfamiliar to him. Not referring to his current location or surroundings, however, but it had to do with his present emotional state. As he sat back and patiently waited in one of the antique armchairs close to the mansion's huge cascading staircase, Bobby had been amusing and keeping himself occupied by using his mutant power to create various miniature objects made of solid-ice.

While this was nothing new for Bobby, as this member of the X-Men's senior-squad had gained both notoriety and had also become somewhat notorious for the various ways in which he had found to demonstrate the versatile applications of his powers, the reason for him doing so right now was in and of itself altogether untrodden territory for him.

Watching, as the other residents' Institute had come and gone over the course of the last hour or so, each passing by and telling him that they'd catch up with him later at the dance, Bobby was starting to grow anxious and a bit concerned. Wondering, if perhaps his date for the evening had, ironically enough, gotten cold-feet and was now having second-thoughts about going out with the proverbial class-clown?

But, just as Bobby had started on his fourth ice-sculpture, this time molded in the shape of a flaming-star, he immediately paused when he felt the presence of another individual coming down the stairs to join him.

"Sorry about taking so long. It's just, I wasn't sure about how I looked." Angelica apologetically confessed, as she came around the sharp corner at the bottom of the staircase to see Bobby quietly sitting there while waiting for her.

"Wow, you…look wonderful." Bobby was about all that managed to stumble out, as he shot up from his chair, straightening his tie and the coat of his suit. And in the process, almost dropped the half-finished star sculpture that he was holding in his right-hand, after getting this up-close and unobstructed look at Angelica now.

"Thanks." Angelica smiled and replied to Bobby's observatory comment, as he walked over towards her once he had reaffirmed his grip on this small and frigid object in hand.

Even though it appeared that Bobby had managed to quickly regain his grasp on this personally-sculpted figurine, Angelica decided that she wasn't going to take any further chances tonight.

"What're you doing?" Bobby now asked, as Angelica held her purse in one hand and raised her other hand up, extending it out towards him.

"Oh, just being safety conscious." Angelica humorously answered with a modest giggle, as she used her own mutant powers to melt the jagged frozen-object in Bobby's hand, all the while thinking to herself about the casual prediction that Laura had made to her upstairs.

Meanwhile, Bobby had absolutely no idea what Angelica was talking about. But, he opted to just roll with whatever it was she had meant by her statement, as he walked with her over towards the mansion's huge front doors and they went outside together. Where, Bobby had already taken the liberty of parking his silver SRT-4 on the sizable semi-circular driveway that was sitting just a few yards away.

Bobby hurriedly rushed over to his car, so that he could chivalrously open the passenger-side door for Angelica. And, so that they could at last get this night officially started.

**……………………………………………………………..**

A little later, after Bobby and Angelica had left along with most everyone else at the Institute having also vacated the premises, Logan was preparing to do much the same himself.

Performing an informal cursory check as he casually walked throughout the Institute's ground and upper-floors, Logan used all of his heightened senses to ensure that everything was in order before ultimately making his own departure.

But, a quick glance at one of the wall-mounted security VDT's located near the mansion's front-door unexpectedly caught his eye, revealing to Logan that the Institute wasn't quite as empty as he had previously thought?

Logan knew that Professor Xavier would be remaining in for the duration of this evening, and that the presence now registering was in a part of the Institute where he was certain the Professor wasn't going to be. Making an about-face, Logan turned around so that he could head down into the Institute's sub-basement.

Mainly, to find out who it was that was currently running an exercise simulation in their almost larger-than-life Danger Room?

Thinking that it was probably Hank or Ororo logging either a solo or joint session-run down there, Logan decided to go ahead and get suited-up himself. He went and put on his black and yellow X-uniform with the intentions of joining in on the fun when he got to the Danger Room, figuring that it would give him a chance to work up a good thirst before heading out. And, that he might be able persuade one, or possibly both of them, into joining him at Harry's Hideaway just outside of town for a few drinks afterwards. But, upon keying in the proper access codes to open the Danger Room's huge steel blast-doors, Logan was greeted by the sight of the only student at the Institute who would even think to attempt a level-10 simulation, unsupervised and all by herself.

It turned out to be the exact same sim that the X-Men's black-team had run for the first time only a few months ago, albeit unsuccessfully their first time through, despite their collective and most formidable abilities.

With that said, for this young lady to attempt such a feat displayed a certain degree of bravery or insanity, or perhaps a combination of the two, on her part? And it was something that Logan couldn't help but, coincidentally enough, relate to.

Sprinting towards a giant Sentinel in this arena-sized facility, which had been holographically remade using lower Manhattan's skyline and distinct neighborhood layouts for its scenic backdrop, Logan watched as X-23 agilely dodged the rapid-fire release coming from the main proto-plasma rifle grafted into this monstrous robot's hand, as well as managing to avoid the heavy projectiles being shot at her from its auxiliary shoulder-mounted guns. Once she got close enough, Laura quickly leapt up onto the robot's leg and used the razor-sharp adamantium claws in her fists and feet to swiftly scurry up along its torso-side. With her extensive knowledge of Colonel Trask's Sentinel program, which she had gleaned from both HYDRA and SHIELD's databases, as well as from information stored in the X-Men's own computer files, Laura immediately went for the Sentinel's jugular, so to speak.

Climbing up onto the construct's back and shoulders, all in a manner intended to keep it off-balance so that she could use her claws to efficiently disable this Mark-I's primary and secondary weapons, Laura feverishly hacked away at very specific areas on it. Quickly, she clawed her way deep down into strategic points below its exo-structure, which was where electronic panels and other critically integrated circuitry that linked together the Sentinel's various guidance control-systems were located. And, within a matter of just a few moments, this lumbering mountain compiled of steel and other assorted polymers stopped all movement, eerily standing there frozen in place.

Right before it toppled forward onto the ground, all in a single thunderous and crashing heap.

"Nice to see you haven't lost a step." Logan smiled and said, as he walked down this holographically reproduced street towards where Laura and the fallen Sentinel currently were, "What, with all the time the Prof's had you loggin' in here with the rest of the junior-team."

"Don't worry. I've still got a lot more left that I can teach you, if you want?" Laura smirked and humorously boasted, as she hopped down off of this cybernetic scrap-heap and walked over towards Logan.

The Danger Room's computer controls then terminated the training sequence and automatically set itself to the task of dematerializing these artificially-enhanced surroundings, all the while as music continued to loudly emanate from its audio speaker-system. Which, was thanks to Laura having plugged her pod-player into the control booth's computer console before she began her session, so that she could get into a wicked groove listening to her favorite new band while she trained.

"Girl, I've forgotten more moves than you'll ever know!" Logan sharply responded to Laura's bravado, as he now stopped his leisurely jaunt down this street and stood just a few feet away from her.

"Well, they do say that memory is the first thing that goes? Especially, when you guys start getting up there in years, that is." Laura looked over at Logan and remarked to him, doing so with a hearty grin.

Which, caused Logan's own smile to briefly disappear, before he closed his eyes and simply shook his head, all with a slight smirk quickly returning to his face.

"Speakin' of moves, shouldn't you already be over at the high school, so you can show yours off to the other kids?" Logan changed subjects and now asked Laura, as he once-again recalled something about there being a dance this evening. Which, many of the younger residents at the Institute had been going on and on about for the last few weeks. All the while as they stood there, Dazzler's retro-cover of Pat Benatar's Invincible played from Laura's pod-player and reverberated throughout the whole of the Danger Room.

But with this inquiry, it was Logan who had now hit a little too close to home for Laura's liking, as her demeanor became noticeably more tense and rigid.

"I didn't want to go." Laura looked down and tersely replied. From which, Logan could immediately sense in her tone that there was something more to it.

"Why not?" Logan bluntly and directly asked her.

"Because, I didn't wanna waste an entire night at some stupid and boring dance." Laura now elaborated, but only just a little bit.

"So, you'd rather spend your time in this boring Danger Room?" Logan asked her, and couldn't believe it himself that those words had actually left his lips, but knew that he was trying to make a more important overall point to Laura, "How do you know it'll be stupid and boring? Tell me, have you ever even been to one before?"

Upon hearing this last round of questioning, Laura didn't even bother to offer a response. But, Logan could see it in her body-language, by the manner in which she now grudgingly folded her arms over in front of her and shifted her shoulders to one side, what the answer to his query was.

"You're not gonna lay-off until I'm decked out in some poofy party-dress, are you?" Laura now turned her gaze back up at Logan to bitingly ask him. Her tepid reaction, in part, due to her knowing exactly where this conversation was heading.

After all, it had only been because of Logan's persistent prodding that Laura had even started socializing with the other residents' of the Institute in the first place, and had wound up getting to know some of them on a more personal level. Which had been a very difficult and intimidating thing for someone, who had been raised her entire life to eschew such trivial and personal interactions, to do.

"You catch on fast. Although, poofy party-dresses don't much seem your style?" Logan smiled and said, having at last gotten through to her, "Then again, I ain't no fashion critic?"

"Fuunnn-eeee…" Laura sarcastically replied, rolling her eyes as she to gave her single-word reply to Logan's last remark, "But it's too late, even if I wanted to go. Everyone's already gone, and the dance's already started."

"Those things go on for a while. If you hurry up and get ready, you'll still get there with plenty of time to make a fashionably-late entrance." Logan encouragingly told Laura.

Meanwhile, Laura stood there silently for a moment, as she appeared to be mulling over this idea that Logan had presented to her.

"Well, I guess I could always hot-wire one of the cars, or the X-Van, out in the garage? I should be able to make it there in just a few--" Laura was thinking aloud, when Logan abruptly interrupted upon hearing these preliminary intentions from her.

"Hold on there, 'Speed'. How's about I just drop you off there instead?" Logan offered her, thinking this to be the less damaging and least costly alternative.

"You don't have to go through all that trouble just for me." Laura said to him.

"Trust me, it's not any trouble. Besides, isn't that what 'big brothers' are for?" Logan smirked and commented to Laura. He was referring to their previously agreed upon cover-story for her, to give to those outside of the Institute to help explain Laura's origins back when she had first come to live permanently in Bayville.

"Oh, really?" Laura asked, in an overtly whimsical manner, with regard to Logan's big brother comment.

"Or, so I hear." Logan replied, having no problem with delivering a reply for her.

But, in spite of all of their sparring banter, both Logan and Laura knew that their bond was one that ran much deeper than that of just being assumed half-siblings. It was one of mentor and student on many levels, and yes, of even father and daughter on a few others. Although, neither had ever actually gone into much detail about it, they both also knew that Logan had been instrumental in easing Laura's transition into this new living environment for her at the Institute. And, in helping her learning to cope with the deep emotional scars of her heinous upbringing at HYDRA's hands, where they had sought to purge their living weapon of her humanity entirely.

It had been Logan's diligence, combined with his own first-hand knowledge and understanding of where Laura had been and of what she had been through, that had helped this young lady come to realize that she wasn't some sort of monster.

That, it was even okay for her to want to try to be a kid again.

As they both now turned to head towards the Danger Room's exit, with Laura rushing off ahead of Logan to hastily pick out an outfit, he himself also decided to take some of his own advice and skipped his workout altogether tonight. But, Logan immediately stopped when the next track from Laura's pod-player cued up on the internal speakers overhead, playing something that was instantly recognizable for him.

"What do you know about listenin' to this?" Logan now queried Laura, as the intro to Street Fighting Man began and he wondered when her growing musical curiosity had managed to stumble back about three or four decades?

"I don't know. Maybe, somebody's 'little sister' snuck into her big brother's room one night, and secretly raided his CD collection when he wasn't looking?" Laura looked back over her shoulder and coyly stated to Logan, before she exited the Danger Room.

Leaving Logan behind with a song that she had picked out of, what she had found to be, an unexpectedly eclectic musical assortment in his possession. Which ranged from the Big-Band Swing era, all the way to the calming and meditative realm of Eastern Chant.

**……………………………………………………………..**

Thanks to the numerous bright lights and glossy-metallic streamers strung from high above and all around the gymnasium at Bayville High School, a substantial transformation had taken place to create a starkly different ambience and appearance than the one usually seen in there. All, with the intent of making sure that this evening's Prom would be an event to remember.

And for Angelica, it was already turning out to be a night that she was certainly never going to forget. Right as she and Bobby arrived at the dance, they were immediately met by two very familiar faces just inside of a rose-entwined lattice archway, which had been erected near the gym's front-entrance.

"Oh, I love yuir dress! It looks SO great on ye!" Rahne Sinclaire came up and excitedly said to Angelica with a delighted squeal.

Although, much the same could have just as easily been said about the dress that Rahne had chosen for the evening, a form-fitting gown in a lovely cerise color that managed to show off her every curve. And, managed to quickly draw a similar compliment in return from Angelica.

"For a while there, I was starting to think that maybe you two had found somewhere better to be?" Roberto da Costa also cordially came up and said to Bobby and Angelica, as he sported a navy tailor-made blazer suit, with a dress shirt worn underneath in an open-collared fashion.

Meanwhile both Roberto and Rahne, who themselves had been dancing together locked in a tight romantic embrace for most of the evening before they spotted Bobby and Angelica, now somewhat struggled to make themselves heard over Say It Right, as it thumped loudly throughout the entire gymnasium from the DJ's huge speakers up on stage.

"No way, you know I wouldn't miss this." Bobby replied, as he stepped over and casually slapped hands with Roberto, "After all, it's a celebration!"

"You have a point, Bobby. With some of us about to graduate and head off for college soon, 'tis a fine and appropriate reason to celebrate." Rahne came over and said to both guys', while securely wrapping her arms around one of Roberto's in a poignant and personal manner.

Roberto and Bobby couldn't help but exchange innocent glances at one another, all from Rahne's having not caught on to their veiled comedic reference. But, it was a brief mention that, surprisingly, wasn't lost on Angelica.

"Come on. Let's go over and at least say Hi to everyone else, before you guys' start slapping each other around like the two stooges or something." Angelica smirked, as she went and firmly took Bobby by the hand.

Angelica then pulled Bobby along with her, so that they could journey further into the school gymnasium. Rahne saw this and quickly followed Angelica's lead, by grabbing a hold of Roberto as well. This steady couple then trailed just a few steps behind Angelica and Bobby, as they all now went to search for where the rest of the gang from the Institute had gathered inside?

**……………………………………………………………..**

A short time later, the relatively tranquil scene outside was broken with the belated arrival of a last-minute attendee for tonight's event. This commotion was in large part due to a heavy-duty Evolution bike engine rumbling out there, which had just pulled up right in front of the school's gymnasium and was now sitting there idling loudly.

"Thanks for the ride." Laura said, as she hopped off of the back of Logan's motorcycle and removed her protective helmet, which both she and Logan only wore for legal and purely cosmetic purposes.

"Anytime." Logan replied, as he lifted up the face-visor of his red bike helmet and took the other black half-helmet from Laura, which was usually the one that he had worn as of late, strapping it down onto a small luggage rack mounted onto the bike's rear, "What time you want me to swing back through here and pick you up?"

"Don't bother. I'll get a ride back to the Institute with Bobby or Jubilee, or somebody." Laura told him.

"Alright, then. See ya later kid." Logan said to her, right before he put his face-visor back down and raucously revved-up the engine of his motorcycle again.

In an instant Logan was gone, peeling out and leaving behind only the resonant sounds from his bike's exhaust system in his wake. But, as he headed away from the school and off into the night, Laura hadn't been left out there alone.

After such a blustery trip, Laura went to check her outfit and make sure that the sheer, long-sleeved white blouse, black leather mini, and the pendant choker collar that she was now wearing were all still in place. But, with her hypersensitive hearing always at work, Laura couldn't help but pick up on the relaxed breathing of another presence out here with her. Who, happened to be over in a dimly-lit area close by, and whose scent Laura also couldn't help but recognize.

"So, are they making you serve some of your detention out here too?" Laura sardonically asked, as she looked up to the top of the steps that led to the gym's entrance, which was where this shadowed figure happened to be standing.

An individual, whom she had seen around school a few times. And, who was usually being escorted by a teacher on his way to Principal Hogarth's office for some mischief that he had just been a participant in.

"Nah. I guess the faculty parole-board must've decided to cut me a break, or something, and grant me an early release?" He sarcastically replied, stepping forward out of the shadows and into better lighting.

Although, Laura had been able to see him perfectly this entire time irregardless.

"So, that your old man dropping you off on the Harley?" He now stood with both hands in the front-pockets of his slacks and curiously asked.

"No, my older brother. John." Laura replied, sticking to her cover story, as she walked towards him.

"That guy sure looked old enough to be your Dad?" Was the remark now directed at Laura, with a thinly-veiled hint of skepticism, as she made her way up the small concrete staircase towards him.

"What can I say, our papa was a rolling stone. And apparently a virile one too, especially for someone his age." Laura replied, as she stopped right next to him and looked him right in the eye, hoping to end his line of questioning with this last intentionally provocative and vivid comment.

And, judging by the slightly unnerved reaction that she had managed to elicit, in part thanks to the accompanying visual image that was now stuck in his mind, Laura was confident that she had accomplished her goal.

"Why are you standing out here by yourself anyways?" Laura now, in turn, curiously inquired of him.

"They started playing some lame-ass song in there." He told her, while leaning back against the bricked-wall next to the entrance.

"Yeah...but isn't that the whole point of coming to these things?" Laura questioningly replied, as she shifted her small leather-studded handbag from one hand over into the other.

"Anyways." He rolled his eyes and impatiently continued on, "So, I decided to come out here and get a little fresh air."

"Uh-huh. Well, have fun with that." Laura now shrugged her shoulders and somewhat indifferently gestured towards him, before continuing on into the gymnasium.

Upon crossing the arched-threshold inside, Laura was immediately met at the door by the blaring sound of Pump It now coming at her at a high decibel. But, her arrival was one that was also warmly welcomed by a friend, who now excitedly waved at Laura from over on the other side of the gym.

Angelica had managed to spot Laura the instant she made her surprise appearance, even amongst this rather considerable crowd. And, Angelica was beyond overjoyed at seeing that her roommate had changed her mind about attending tonight after all.

Seeing that Angelica and Bobby were standing over by a section of tables, which was where most of the others' from the Institute had also congregated, Laura decided to go over and join them as well. Making a b-line, Laura went and took a seat at one of these cloth-covered tables too, but it surprisingly wasn't to join her roommate and her date.

"I thought you said you weren't coming tonight?" Laura remarked, as she instead sat down next to another individual, who also happened to be a resident and one of her junior-squad teammates' from the Institute as well.

And in contrast to most everyone else here at the dance, he was garbed in his usual everyday attire. Which, consisted of a non-distinct long black trenchcoat, along with a specially-fabricated black heavy-gauze that was strangely worn wrapped around to cover him from his mouth, down to just below his chest.

"I remember you sayin' much the same thing. And besides, I only said I was _thinking_ about skipping this whole shindig." Jonothan Starsmore replied, speaking to Laura through his telepathically-filtered voice.

"Well, I had assumed that meant you weren't coming?" Laura stated, as she raised an eyebrow at Jono.

"Then, it looks like you assumed wrong, don't it luv?" Jono looked over and bluntly responded to her.

Which, given his tone, would most likely have been accompanied by a cynical smirk from Jono, if not for the physical disfigurements that he had suffered back when his mutant power first emerged.

But following this last exchange, neither Laura nor Jono felt that they had anything further to say to one another and proceeded to just sit there silently, staring out onto the partially crowded dance-floor before them. It was how the pair usually passed their time together, and to some degree, both generally seemed to prefer this more muted state of being.

Especially, when considering how their conversations usually ended, as it had done just now. In the meantime, Angelica and Bobby had gotten up to go over with a few of the other couples so that they could get their prom-photos taken.

Where, Angelica hadn't been able to help herself from casually observing Jubilee and Everett, and just how downright cuddly they been with one another tonight.

Ever since that night out in the garden a few months ago, when Angelica had finally gotten up the nerve to go up and actually say something to Bobby, she had been worried that she was out of her mind, and certainly out of her league, by showing even the faintest hint of being interested in him. Especially, after she had happened to overhear Amara and some of the other longer-term residents teasing Jubilee one day, about how she and Bobby had supposedly had some kind of hot and super-heavy romance secretly going on way back when. This was all before Jubilee's parents had shown back up and yanked her out of the Institute right after it, and Mutants' in general, had first gone public.

But, Angelica had more tellingly noticed that Jubilee hadn't tried to deny any of the other girls' assertions, particularly with regards to the nature of hers and Bobby's relationship back then?

Still, after seeing how close and how affectionate Everett and Jubilee had become as of late, coupled with the fact that it was Bobby who had asked her out to accompany him this evening, Angelica had come to the conclusion that whatever kind of relationship that Bobby and Jubilee may have once shared, now appeared to be of a purely platonic friendship?

While Angelica stood with Bobby and quietly contemplated all of this while they waited for their turn to get their pictures taken, some of her other classmates' seated a few tables over were themselves dealing with drama that was all their own. Which, on top of having to do with the expected relationship issues, coincidentally also had to do with the fact that they too were mutants.

Although, none of the individuals from this particular group shared the distinction of calling the Xavier Institute home. And, were quick to correct anyone who made such a mistaken assumption.

Hailing from The Kinross Academy, their own place of residency now located in Bayville, it was within those walls that they were trained much as their counterparts from The Xavier Institute. Receiving instruction in how to make better use of their mutant abilities, all under the careful tutelage of the Academy's founding Headmistress herself, Dr. Moira Kinross.

Dubbing themselves as The Kinross Fold, and usually just referring to themselves as The Fold for short, her students' had quickly and often found themselves at odds with the X-Men as. Differences, which on occasion, had escalated into all-out brawls between these two super-powered groups of teenagers.

But, not tonight.

No, any bad blood that still remained between the two sides was to be put aside for the duration of this evening. Especially, given the truce that both the X-Men and the Fold had both agreed upon a number of months ago. And, had also given their word that they would abide to Professor Xavier, Doctor Kinross, and to Principal Hogarth, following the considerable damage that they had all caused to the high school following their most recent skirmish.

And it was something that one of their teachers, who had been assigned to chaperone things tonight, also wanted to ensure remained in effect as well.

_"Everyone is enjoying themselves, I presume?"_

Upon hearing this, each member of The Fold looked up to see Emma Frost now standing there beside their tables. And, with her question delivered to them in a tone relaying that an answer was expected of them, one indeed was quickly offered by one of her students' seated before her.

"Of course, Miss Frost." Christopher Aaronson, who was also known to his peers as Bedlam, replied for the entire group with a guarded smirk as he rocked back slightly in his chair.

Which should've been expected from Chris, since this first student of Dr. Kinross' was pretty much considered by most of his fellow Fold members as their de facto leader and spokesman.

Christopher's attention then turned back from his teacher to the petite French brunette who was seated beside him,

and with whom his hand was noticeably interlaced with upon their table. But another one of his teammates', who had absolutely no problem in speaking for and on her own behalf, now decided to make herself heard.

"That's a lovely outfit, Miss Frost." Monet St. Croix said, offering this complimentary remark to her teacher with what could have been construed as a sarcastic-sounding sentiment to it. Which, may or may not have been her actual intention.

Monet and a couple of the others had earlier this evening pointed out amongst themselves what Miss Frost was wearing, which was an ensemble consisting of a white miniskirt and low-cut blouse of the same color. Both of which, were substantially more revealing than anything they had ever seen Miss Frost in before.

"Monet, your attempt to squeeze additional brownie-points out of me tonight are rather pointless. Especially, since your grade-point average in my class right now, is as perfect as you seem so deludedly fond of self-descriptively boasting about yourself." Miss Frost quipped in return, displaying that she had the ability to give as good as she got.

When, the need arose.

Which, in and of itself was also an unexpected response from this usually stern and serious English teacher. And with seeing such a marked change in Miss Frost's demeanor and her appearance, which also included her not wearing her customary black-rimmed eyeglasses and having let her usually bundled-hair down for this evening, her students' now wondered to themselves what had happened to the 'real' Miss Frost?

As she now moved on, so that she could ensure that the other students' were all also still relatively behaving themselves, Miss Frost couldn't help in overhearing the faint sound of Monet's elbow, as it was thrust into Manuel's side to forcefully silence the jeering cackles that had come at her expense.

But, as Miss Frost now did a visual scan of the entire gymnasium, she couldn't help in noticing something else as well. Mainly, with how the other students' were all seated at the tables that had been set up all around the dance-floor. Miss Frost saw that most everyone, with less than a handful of exceptions, had remained fixed within their own rigid cliques' tonight.

Which, for Bayville High's only openly-mutant teacher, was something that she found particularly disheartening. It had been her hope that a greater level of healing would have begun to take place by now, especially between the mutant and non-mutant communities, in the aftermath of the highly-publicized and emotionally-charged Matthews' trial.

But, it seemed that things had only gotten worse, and more heatedly divisive, in that time since. From, the exodus of a sizable number of non-mutant families, who in the violence that immediately erupted following the trial's verdict, felt that Bayville was no longer a safe place for them and their children. To, the combative rift and almost factional mentality that had sprung up between the Xavier and Kinross students'.

While Miss Frost stood off to one side next to the folded-up bleachers and further contemplated these varied issues, all of the other Prom attendees' were completely oblivious to her current concerns. With The Sweet Escape now pulsating throughout the entire gymnasium, the dance-floor had started to fill back up again. And, would continue to increase in number even moreso, once the following announcement was made to those within.

_"Alright, next song is for all you happy couples' out there..."_

The DJ then followed his comment by slowing things down a bit with a more laid-back tune.

"Ooh, this is one of my favorites!" Angelica excitedly revealed the instant she heard Too Little, Too Late, as a few of the other couples' seated close by were getting up and making their way out onto the dance-floor.

"Well, I guess we'd better not let a fave go to waste then?" Bobby charmingly remarked, as he stood up and offered his arm to Angelica, "Shall we?"

Which Angelica took without hesitation took ahold of, as Bobby now led the way out onto the dance-floor with her right beside him. Although, they were far from being the last couple to step out there.

Now making their way back from the far side of the gym, which was where the professional photographer had set up shop, Jamie Madrox and Paige Guthrie came and finally rejoined the others on the dancefloor as well, while this slow pop-ballad continued to play on.

Meanwhile, Laura watched as her roommate danced in a closely-unisoned embrace with her date out on this polished hardwood surface, and was happy to see that Angelica was enjoying herself. But at the same time, Laura was wondering why she had allowed herself to get talked into coming here by Logan in the first place? That, she could've certainly had a much better time tonight, if he'd just left her alone back home in the Danger Room.

And, Laura was literally about two seconds away from bolting to go back to the Institute. Or, to at least find someplace else, ANYPLACE else that was other than here, when a now familiar face suddenly reappeared next to the table where she and Jono were seated.

Having watched Laura for a good little while, ever since first bumping into her shortly after her arrival earlier, he had observed that she definitely didn't look like someone who was having much of a good time so far.

"Um, care to dance?" Julian Keller now came over and boldly asked Laura, "I mean, even if it is to another lame-ass song."

Upon hearing this offer, Laura initially responded with a noticeable rolling of her eyes. But then, she just sat there for a moment, appearing to at least be giving it some serious consideration.

"Sure, why not?" Laura, after a few moments, sighed and acceptingly replied, "At least someone around here bothered to ask."

She then shot a scowling glance over in Jono's direction, before standing up to go with Julian. Laura figured that she had might as well go ahead and get this one dance over with, so that she could leave immediately afterwards. And, would be able to honestly tell Logan that she had danced at least once tonight, if he ever brought subject up again.

But, as the pair made their way out onto the dance-floor together, they managed to draw the collective stares from a few of their fellow Xavier and Kinross classmates', along with one very interested teacher.

For, just the briefest of moments.

**……………………………………………………………..**

Later, after the dance had ended, many of those in attendance now headed off for the various after-prom parties, which had been organized by several different students. Meanwhile, some of the others had opted to regroup first at The Cafe-Go, Bayville's top teen hangout. From here, they would come to a consensus on which of these social functions that they would be attending next?

But there were still a few, who apart from the crowd, had managed to come up with an agenda for the evening that was all their own.

"I thought we were going to meet up with everyone over at The Cafe-Go?" Angelica asked, as she and Bobby had a short while ago left the parking lot back at the school, and were now driving down a dimly-lit roadway in his car.

Which, Angelica had noticed was taking them away from the city, not towards it in the direction where The Cafe-Go was located.

"We will. We're just making a quick detour first." Bobby replied, then proceeded to turn off onto a small backroad a few moments later.

Driving along this isolated pass, Angelica knew that the surrounding scenery felt familiar for some reason. And, realizing that they hadn't been the only ones to make this journey, as they passed by a few cars that were already parked in the relative seclusion of this darkened wooded-area, Angelica quickly recognized that they were up on Lookout Point.

But, since there was no immediate threat, at least none that she was aware of, to precipitate them venturing to the X-Men's emergency meeting place, Angelica thought to herself that Bobby had better have a good explanation for why he had brought her up there.

A REAL good explanation.

Soon, they too came to a stop, parking a number of yards away from a cliff-side edge that overlooked Central Bay, with the bright lights of the city of Bayville visible off in the distance.

"So, you want to tell me what this is all about?" Angelica now asked from her passenger-side vantage.

"There's something I wanted to show you up here." Bobby replied, as he remained unusually cryptic after putting the car into park and turning its ignition off.

"Really?" Angelica commented, as she turned slightly to her left and looked right at him, while folding her arms over in front of her. Angelica's guarded curiosity had now given way to a frowned expression, which she then purposely sent Bobby's way.

Bobby however hadn't noticed his date's reaction, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his driver-side car door to step outside. Now even more curious as to why Bobby had walked around to the front of his car and then taken a seat up on the front of its hood, Angelica also went to unlatch her seat-buckle. So, that she too could join Bobby out there, and find out what in the world was going on with him?

"You know, you'd probably get just as good of a view of the Bay from back at the Institute. And an even better one when it's daylight out too." Angelica now got out of the car and humorously remarked to Bobby, referring to the Institute's rear sea-side accessibility.

"Hmmph. Yeah, probably. But, looking at the Bay isn't why I came up here." Bobby replied, as he turned her attention from the large body of water that lay out before them, and instead pointed with his index-finger straight up towards the clear nighttime sky.

Instinctively trailing with her eyes as his hand moved upward, Angelica was treated to an unfettered view of the darkened sky and luminously shining stars above, as she went and took a seat up on the car next to Bobby.

"Is there something in particular that I'm supposed to be looking at?" Angelica asked, as she now turned her eyes from the heavens, back down towards Bobby.

"Yeah, all of it." Bobby assuredly replied, as he now reached over to gently take Angelica's hand into his.

Bobby then proceeded to reshape Angelica's hand with his own, so that it was similarly positioned with her index-finger now extended outward. Bobby then slid his hand down around Angelica's wrist, so that he could better show her what he was talking about.

"Don't you see it, right there?" Bobby now asked, as his hand acted to slowly guide Angelica's up in a specific celestial pattern, "It's the constellation Cancer. The one right there, it sorta looks like an upside-down 'Y'."

As Bobby slid his own hand back up over on top of Angelica's, he patiently continued to retrace the vague shape of, what was supposed to be, a large crab in the sky with her hand a few more times for her benefit. And before long, Angelica did finally manage to make out what it was that Bobby had been talking about.

"Oh, now I do! Right there!" Angelica exclaimed, as she saw it and then looked back over at Bobby.

Which, was precisely the enthusiastic response that Bobby had been hoping to garner from her.

"If you look over there, you can see some other ones. There's Leo, and Hydra is down towards the right from it..." Bobby continued, as he guided his and Angelica's now interlaced fingers, moving them together in a counter-clockwise fashion to slowly connect the starry-dots of each constellation pattern high up above.

"Wow, I never would've guessed that you were into in this kinda stuff!" Angelica now genuinely commented, as she looked back over at her date beside her.

"Well, I guess even class-clowns have to have some kinda meaningful hobby in their spare time?" Bobby smilingly replied.

And, even though both his and Angelica's hands had since been brought back down from their star-pointing position, they both noticed that their hands had remained very much intertwined together.

Which, neither seemed to really mind, though.

"So, how many hours did you spend in the library reading up on this?" Angelica now asked Bobby, as their interlaced hands rocked ever so slightly in between them.

"Hold on! What makes you think I'd be caught dead inside of a library?" Bobby replied, in his trademarked comical manner.

"C'mon, it's okay. You can tell me." Angelica said, as she paused their mutual hand-movement, thinking to herself that Bobby bringing her up here to stargaze was the absolutely, positively, super-sweetest thing that any guy had ever done for her.

"Actually, my Grandpa taught me." Bobby now admitted to her, "He used to always take me camping when I was little. And on clear nights like this, we'd stay up half the night trying to find as many different patterns as we could. I mean, we would just sit there and stare up in the sky for hours and--"

At that moment Bobby paused his story, when he saw something up in the sky that managed to even surprise him.

"What's the matter?" Angelica asked, after a few moments of silence had passed.

"Up there. It's a falling star." Bobby told her, lifting their still-linked hands to follow this incandescent trail now streaking its way across the blackened upper-atmosphere, "I haven't seen one in a long time, not since before my Grandpa died. He used to tell me about how they were supposed to be good luck, if you ever saw one."

"I guess that's why people are always making wishes on them, huh?" Angelica smiled and replied, "It kinda reminds me of something my 'Nana would've said to me too."

The pair then sat there and quietly watched together, as the shooting star continued on its slow downward trek to earth. Eventually, disappearing from sight altogether, after it burned up completely upon re-entry.

"Um, you can borrow my coat if you're starting to get cold out here?" Bobby offered to Angelica, with the two of them having now spent an indeterminate amount of time outside silently gazing up at the heavens together.

"Thanks, but I'm alright. I've learned to control my powers enough now, that I can use them to keep myself warm when I need to." Angelica cheerfully replied, "And, without setting any schools on fire either."

Bobby responded to Angelica's declination with a simple and affirmative nod, before turning his attention back skyward again. The pair was once again left, in what quickly became, an awkward silence between them that felt almost deafening to one of them.

"But, if you're getting cold out here we...can..." Angelica had started in an attempt to break this silence, thinking that perhaps Bobby had brought up the subject because of how he was beginning to feel out in this crisp nighttime air.

But, once Angelica saw the hearty grin that came across Bobby's face upon hearing her remark, she too caught on. Even, if it was a few syllables too late.

"Yeah." Angelica looked down and muttered in a low voice, after what should've been an obvious realization for her.

That, if there was anyone in the world who needn't worry about being uncomfortable in a chilly environment, that it would've been this individual seated beside her.

Even though to most it wouldn't have been anything to bother giving a second thought to, Angelica felt that she had just made a complete fool out of herself in front of Bobby. Which, had been the most dreaded fear going into tonight for this overly self-conscious young lady, as she went and released her hand from its caressing grasp within Bobby's.

Where it had been interlocked with his for the better part of an hour now.

"Sorry." Angelica blushingly said to Bobby, as she now took her hand and used it to nervously pull a few strands of her fire-red locks back behind her left ear, "I guess that must've sounded pretty stupi--?"

But before she could finish her sentence, Angelica found herself being interrupted. Not by another's words, or even by another falling star, but by something that was far more magical to her.

By, the muffled silence that came with Bobby's having just leaned over to unexpectedly kiss her.

Giving her, her first kiss.

And one that felt like it went on forever, even though in her mind Angelica knew that wasn't the case. But, the flushed sensation that she was now experiencing did feel as though it had lingered on with her, long after Bobby had moved back over to the other side of the car.

**……………………………………………………………..**

To Be Continued, in the midnight hour...

**……………………………………………………………..**

Epilogue-

_Bayville Medical Center_

In a city with the size and population that Bayville had achieved, both of which were continuing to expand and grow at a rapid rate in spite of the somewhat unfavorable national press that had been generated here over the last couple of years, this medical center stood as a state-of-the-art facility that could rival anything that many significantly larger cities had to offer. But, with such a dramatic increase in size, unfortunately also came the problems that most big cities had to contend with.

Namely, an anticipated rise in crime.

And, while there had been a major car theft and smuggling ring in the city broken up some time ago by the still enigmatic and unidentified vigilante group known only as the Bayville Sirens, the criminal activity centered here had since become much more diversified. And at times, much more violent.

So much so, that the trauma team at Bayville's main hospital wasn't too shocked by the fairly disturbing sight that visited upon them this Friday night, with the arrival of their next patient.

"Alright, tell me what we've got here?" One of the E.R. surgeons came up and asked, as she joined another doctor and nurse already standing by this stretcher that had been rushed unimpeded straight through triage.

"Assault victim. Female. In her early to mid-thirties." The other doctor replied, "Appears to have sustained multiple injuries."

"Obviously." The first doctor said, as she repositioned the breathing apparatus on the victim's scarred and very bruised face, and who still appeared to be having trouble getting air in and out of her lungs even with this machine's assistance.

"She looks to have suffered severe blunt cranial trauma, as well as trauma to her neck, chest, torso..." The second doctor was saying, as he set to the task of trying to stop the bleeding from these various open lacerations.

Meanwhile, the first doctor turned to the nurse standing close-by, who herself was hurriedly working to get IV lines connected to the patient.

"When you're finished with that, I want you to get X-Ray prepped. By then, we should hopefully have the patient stabilized." The first doctor instructed, as she went over to assist her colleague in trying to stop the tremendous amount of blood being lost by this assault victim.

"Yes, Dr. Reyes." The nurse replied, promptly finishing off the connections, before going off to secure an X-Ray room.

"From what the officer, who brought her in with the EMT's, put in his initial report, robbery wasn't even a motive." The second doctor said, making small-talk as they both worked.

"Then, that just makes whoever did this all the more sicker." Dr. Reyes poignantly replied, "I'm going to start her on plasma and isotonic fluids. See if there are any allergic reactions in her file, or anything else that we should be aware of?"

"Let's see." The second doctor replied, as he went and picked up a clipboard that had the patient's vital medical history printed on it, "Name: Frost, Emma Grace. No allergic meds listed. Although,--"

But, as grave as the prognosis for their patient had sounded, things suddenly took a turn for the worse when one of the nearby monitoring devices began to wail loudly.

"Damn it, she's going into arrest! Stand by to begin defibrillation." Dr. Reyes said with a controlled shout, as other E.R. personnel now rushed in to assist her and the other doctor in their effort to save this poor woman.

Whom, even Dr. Reyes was beginning to wonder, hadn't just been dealt one obstacle too many for her to overcome this night...

**……………………………………………………………..**

Next chapter: **With Friends' Like Mine**...


	11. Friends Like Mine

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**xxx**

Chapter 11- Friends Like Mine

_Manhattan, New York_-

Having gotten well-accustomed by now to making her way around this crowded metropolis by way of subway, the young woman known as Rogue has found that these daily excursions have provided her with frequent moments to reflect on her life, and how much it has changed. Not just because she and her friends have graduated from high school and are now in college, but because of everything else that has happened in that time and since.

Since, she had been cured.

Gone now were those protective gloves and superimposing outfits that Rogue had been constantly forced to wear, as a precautionary effort to keep from accidentally hurting others with her powers by covering herself virtually from head to toe. Left in their place were far more liberating ensembles, which at one time would have been unthinkable to see her wearing in public because of the potential danger that it posed. Such as her attire today that included a chocolate-colored, short-sleeve top she currently had on while riding aboard this semi-packed metro-rail car.

The only time that Rogue even entertained the thought of wearing a pair of gloves now was when they happened to go with a particular outfit. And given how they had been such an integral part of her wardrobe before, any new outfit requiring them would have to be a damned impressive one for her to even consider donning them again.

In fact, the only thing close to a fashion accessory that Rogue wore on a regular basis was a black wristwatch. And at first glance, it appeared to be just an ordinary digital timepiece. But closer inspection would reveal it to be anything but ordinary, as its double-straps with their fairly complex locking mechanisms to help securely fasten it around her arm, and a prominently placed 'SE' transparent-logo on the watch's faceplate further testified to. Moreover, only one of its numerous tiny readouts had anything in the slightest to do with keeping accurate time, and her watch's overall design even bore a strikingly similar resemblance to the one that her brother regularly wore to conceal his holographic image-inducer, and for good reason.

It was thanks to this neuro-power regulator on Rogue's arm that a 'cure' had been found for the complications she had experienced because of her mutant powers, and had a great deal to do with the reason why she was on her way to her current destination this morning.

As she sat and looked out through one of the windows of this subway car, now that they had hit a topside stretch of track, Rogue pondered on the realization that even though her circumstances had changed, the world around her had remained much the same. And, that those same insecurities and doubts that had plagued her since her powers first emerged were still with her as well. Personal issues, which ranged from the complicated relationship that she had with her estranged mother, to another potential relationship of a decidedly more romantic, and even more confusing, nature for her.

But any further considerations on this subject would have to wait until her next commute, as the subway train that Rogue was on pulled into the next station and slowed to a stop. Exiting out onto the loading platform through the surrounding mass of other people, who were also disembarking and boarding, Rogue slung her black-netted bookbag over her right shoulder and turned in the direction towards the end of the terminal. After walking up its somewhat cramped and lengthy stairway, Rogue soon found herself back up at street-level and then continued on down the still crowded sidewalk towards her destination this morning at 42nd Street and Madison Avenue.

Which also happened to be the location of the Baxter Building, the home and headquarters of the world-famousFantastic Four!

It was all still a bit surreal to Rogue even now, who herself certainly wasn't a newcomer to the super-hero game, to be standing out here in front of such an awe-inspiring structure. It was a feeling that only intensified at the realization that she essentially had what equated to her own key to the front-door, as Rogue was immediately identified by the thorough scanning array at the entrance into the Baxter Building, and then allowed to proceed on into the lobby without any further hassle.

"And, how are you doing this fine day?" Was the cheerful question now posed to Rogue, just as she had entered the main part of this lobby, and was just about to head over towards the elevators'.

Rogue instantly recognized Willie Lumpkin, the friendly neighborhood mail-carrier whom she had run into and spoken with on several occassions during her visits here.

"Ah'm good. How about you, Mr. Lumpkin?" Rogue replied, as she stopped to chat for a moment with this older gentleman, after going over to press the button for the elevator and was now waiting for it to arrive.

Following a brief conversation with Mr. Lumpkin, which mostly centered around his recounting to her about a recent fight here in the Baxter Buiding between the FF4 and some other super-powered person, and whose name escaped him at the moment, they both soon went their separate ways. With Rogue now stepping onto the elevator to head up to the building's top-floor, and with Mr. Lumpkin turning to leave the Baxter Building entirely so that he could finish making the remainder of his mail deliveries for the day.

**xxx**

Upon finally reaching the upper-levels of this modest skyscraper, Rogue stepped off of the elevator and carefully navigated her way through the virtual maze of corridors that lay before her. Although, Rogue found that she had gotten far better at finding her way around this complex, and no longer got lost as she had during her first visit here.

Once she had arrived where the team's gigantic research laboratory was located, Rogue stood just outside of this expansive chamber for a moment and silently marveled at everything going on inside. It was from within this sanctum of experimentation and discovery that some of the modern era's cutting-edge advances in a multitude of scientific and technical fields had been made. And, it was in no small part thanks to the innovative equipment being put to proper use by the astounding genius and insatiable curiosity of one Dr. Reed Richards, who even now was in the midst of what appeared to be yet another one of his breakthrough experiments.

And was the main reason behind why Rogue had remained out here by the lab's entrance silently observing things, so that she wouldn't disturb his concentration at what might be a critical juncture in his work. But for a man whose eye for detail and capacity to multi-task seemed to operate at an almost eerily unfathomable level, any and all possible factors that could influence the outcome of his research were constantly being catalogued and accounted for.

Even when it came to a young lady currently standing outside, whose arrival one of the environmental quality sensors within the lab had alerted him to long before she had been granted access into the Baxter Building. It also caused Reed to wonder why Rogue was acting in such a standoffish manner anyways, since she had been here before on several prior occasions and had seen first-hand the extensive level of safety precaution that were always adhered to in here when they were deemed necessary.

"You're here bright and early." Reed said to Rogue, while he simultaneously stared down with one eye into what appeared to be a large microscopic device in front of him.

"Ah had an early class this morning. So, Ah decided to come right over after it let out, instead of headin' back home." Rogue replied, still standing underneath the huge reinforced doorframe.

"Please, come inside and make yourself comfortable. We'll be ready to run your tests in a moment." Reed told her, as he continued looking down into the microscope. At the same time, Mr. Fantastic used one of his elastically outstretched limbs to reach far back behind him and enter in a complex set of equations into another computer terminal.

"Ah can wait. Ah don't wanna get in the way, or anything." Rogue contentedly replied, and further watched the man in action from her afar vantage.

"Nonsense!" Reed reassuringly said to her, this time using his other lengthily outstretched arm and hand to grab a chair, rolling it over for Rogue to have a seat in.

"Well, if you insist." Rogue cordially replied, sitting down in the chair with a slight smirk now on her face. And, from where she still had a perfect view to observe everything that was going on in the lab.

Watching Dr. Richards work, as minute after silent minute passed by, Rogue couldn't help but notice how much he reminded her of Dr. McCoy. How they both seemed to get so engrossed in their scientific pursuits, that they almost acted as though they were in some other, far-off world.

Then suddenly, something happened to help Rogue understand that there may've been a reason for that. From another nearby device, a bright flash of light emerged to illuminate the entire lab, even in the now broad daylight of this morning hour. But once this dazzling irradiance had subsided, Rogue was beyond shocked at what she saw next.

Five individuals now standing there in the center of the laboratory before her and Dr. Richards, who had appeared seemingly from out of thin-air.

"Wow! That Criss Angel's got nothin' on you guys!" Rogue enthusiastically remarked to this just arrived group, as she casually leaned back into the chair.

"Got that right! We don't even need smoke or mirrors, especially with Sue around." The mutant who, like Rogue, only went by a single name immediately replied.

"Try getting some of our strongest critics to believe that, Forge. Even after all of these years." Susan Storm-Richards, popularly known as The Invisible Woman, said in response to Forge's comment, as she and the rest of the group stepped off of this large circular platform located in the lab's center.

Sue then turned her attention up towards her husband, who himself was pre-occupied at the moment with the numerous computations that were being recalculated on the computer monitor in front of him.

"Did we get the answers that you were looking for?" Sue asked, as she walked up a small set of stairs to the semi-balcony where Reed was positioned and joined him, the couple both currently dressed in their blue FF4 team-uniforms.

"Yes, and no. For everything that we seem to learn about this Microverse, there are a hundred new questions that arise to take their place." Reed replied, as he continued his analysis of readouts being taken from the tiny data collecting equipment that each member of this expeditionary group had been outfitted with.

"I guess that'll at least keep us from getting bored, huh?" Doug Ramsey, another one of the individuals who had been shrunk down and sent in to help investigate this newly discovered facet of the microverse, now jokingly remarked.

"Hanging around here, I don't think that being bored will ever be a problem for us." Gwen Stacy humorously added, as she stood right beside Doug after both had exited the laboratory's central platform.

But in spite of her somewhat playful tone, Gwen was able to speak with a degree of expertise on this particular subject. Especially, given the considerable amount of time that she and Doug had been spending on a regular basis here at the Baxter Building themselves lately. It was in large part thanks to the pair having been awarded with two highly-coveted internships with Dr. Richards, each one chosen from amongst a small and elite pool of science majors enrolled at Empire State University. And, from which Reed himself is an alum, a generous contributor, and a frequent guest-lecturer.

"Well, I'm just happy you guys were nice enough to let me tag-along for the ride." Another young lady, and fellow ESU student named Biyanka Turino, now said to the rest of the group as she was the last to exit the platform.

"I'm always happy, whenever I'm with you." Forge said in response to Biyanka's comment, as he came over to her and then gave his girlfriend a brief kiss.

And in the process managed to take a slightly older couple, who were watching from the small balcony above, back to a time when it was the two of them down there. Just starting out together, but already so much in love.

Meanwhile, Forge had left Biyanka's side and come back over to another terminal located down there in the lab, reforming his mechanized prosthetic arm so that he could plug it right into this computer and finish downloading their impressive findings from this most recent exploration of the microverse.

Ironically, it was this shared mutual interest in the discovery of parallel and alternate planes of existence that had originally led to Reed and Forge forming their scientific partnership in the first place. Intrigued after reading Forge's graduate dissertation on the subject, in which he had documented his time spent trapped for decades in a pocket dimension that he had dubbed Middleverse, Reed contacted this savvy young-at-heart inventor so that they could further discuss his harrowing experience and compare notes.

"Okay, transfer complete. We can go over the data we captured in detail later." Forge looked up and said to Reed, as he disengaged his arm from the terminal port and turned his attention over towards Rogue, "Alright, I think you're familiar with the drill by now."

Forge then reformed his right arm back to normal, and with a simple hand-gesture, motioned for Rogue to go have a seat on a nearby exam table. Which, had suddenly emerged from the floor beneath the lab, along with some other new equipment appearing to replace a few of the devices that had been in use in there just scant moments before.

"If you guys have more important things to work on, Ah can always come back another time." Rogue said, as she stood up from the chair that Dr. Richards had so courteously provided to her earlier.

While it would seem that Rogue was being unnecessarily and uncharacteristically demure, there was actually a good explanation for her behavior. In her mind, Rogue felt that these two men had already devoted so much of their own time in helping to solve her problem in the first place, that she didn't feel right in just continuing to overly-monopolize it.

"The only important thing I have to do right now is check on how one of my best inventions is working, dig?" Forge smiled and said, as he took Rogue by the hand and led her over to the exam table.

But, while Rogue went to lay down and Forge prepped the surrounding scanning equipment, something suddenly hit him with regard to his last comment.

"Whoops! I meant, OUR invention." Forge said, as he briefly looked up at Reed, before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

"No, you were right the first time. " Reed replied, while looking down at another monitor from up there, "Rogue's power-regulator was your brainchild."

"Being modest as always, dear." Sue came over and said, putting her arm around her husband's, which was once again elastically-outstretched and at work.

All the while, Reed busily keyed in various codes and calculations into the Pym particle-accelerator, which he and another close colleague and friend had jointly developed, and that he had just used to send the others into the microverse and then bring them back again. Meanwhile, Gwen and Doug were now performing a thorough inspection of the device for Dr. Richards in an open workspace that sat just beneath the laboratory.

"Sue's right, though." Forge now commented, as he was finishing with the set-up of the scanning equipment.

"As usual." Reed managed to quickly interject, and grinningly conceded.

"If it hadn't been for you, Charles, Erik, and Moira helping me with work the kinks out of the regulator, who knows, I might've wound up zapping me and Rogue into the future? Or the past? Or, somewhere else even crazier?" Forge continued in explanation, somewhat humorously referencing how his inventions seemed to always entail an unexpected side-effect. Which, as a rule in general was usually neither intended, nor anticipated by their maker.

Forge then turned to look back at Biyanka, just as he finished hooking the last of a series of small cables into Rogue's wristwatch power regulator.

"I guess if anyone really deserves most of the credit for coming up with this though, it should be Biyanka." Forge acknowledged, as he now keyed in several command functions to this device.

"Ah didn't know you were heavy into this science stuff too?" Rogue inquired, looking up and over at Biyanka right before the exam-table that she was on retracted back into its semi-capsule-like housing.

"Trust me, I'm not. I can tell you the difference between a microchip and a potato chip, and that's about as far as my knowledge goes." Biyanka smilingly replied.

"But, if it hadn't been for her constantly encouraging me to at least try, I probably would've never even seriously started working on your regulator." Forge surprisingly revealed.

Who, after his efforts in trying to help Rogue's brother Kurt better understand his own teleportation powers had nearly done more damage than good, had become reluctant to create any such future devices for others.

Rogue now realized that she, in fact, owed a tremendous debt of gratitude to Biyanka for her persistence with Forge. But before she could verbalize her appreciation, or ask the more obvious question to Biyanka about why she had taken such an interest in her plight, they were suddenly interrupted by another thing.

Literally.

"Suzie, you better tell 'Matchhead' next time he decides to self-heat tostadas, not to leave half of it layin' on the living room floor. **Else, I'm gonna leave halfa him stuck to the floor**!" Benjamin J. Grimm, better known by his pseudo-moniker as The Thing, now made known.

And, did so loud enough that his exclamation was heard by everyone in the lab, and probably anyone else who was within a half-block radius. Ben then turned his attention back down to examine the craggy under-soles of his feet, searching for any remnants of lettuce, tomato, or salsa con queso in those crevices.

"Okay, I'll have a talk with Johnny about it." Sue replied to Ben with a very noticeable sigh, likely from the feeling that this conversation was to be yet another repeat from the on-going reality show that had become her life.

In the meantime, Ben had finally calmed down enough to notice that everyone else was at work on various tasks within the lab. And, that there was one addition to what was their usual numbers in there.

"So, what's the think-tank up to today?" Ben now asked, using his general appellation for Reed, Sue, Forge, Gwen, and Doug whenever he saw the five of them all in the lab together.

"That'd be me, Mr. Grimm. Ah'm just here for my monthly check-up." Rogue replied, as the exam-table that she was on was extending back out from this highly advanced CAT-scan device.

"There ain't no need for any o' that Mr. Grimm-stuff outta you, kid. Just plain ol' Ben is fine by me." Ben smiled and told Rogue, "Except, fer when it comes to that deadbeat teammate o' yours. You tell Logan next time you see him that he still owes me from our last poker night. And, I don't wanna haveta come all the way out to Bayville just to collect from him."

"Ah will." Rogue promised him, as Ben was turning around to head back out of the lab.

Rogue couldn't keep from grinning a little to herself at the prospect of delivering this message to Logan, and at what his likely response would be. Which, would invariably include a litany of four-letter words, and then conclude with Logan declaring that he was going to drive into Manhattan himself, just so he could give his old-poker buddy a personal demonstration of exactly where he could go and stick those winnings of his.

**xxx**

Later, after Forge and Dr. Richards had concluded their examination of Rogue and were assured that there were not any adverse effects being caused from the neural-link with her power-regulator, which had been designed to subconsciously train her mind so that she would eventually learn to control her mutant abilities all on her own, Rogue left the Baxter Building and proceeded to make her way uptown.

Her destination now, the Scarlet Rune.

Appropriately named so by its owner Wanda Maximoff, the Rune (as it was simply referred to by those who frequented it) carried an aura of the unexpected, as well as an undeniably captivating allure that seemed to constantly and consistently surround both it and its proprietor. Operating as a cross-hybrid clothing store and magic shop, the Scarlet Rune had also gained something of a local reputation as an all-around haunt for those seeking items of an alternative or unusual nature.

Such as the small, blue, and very familiar elf-like dolls that greeted Rogue the moment that she strode in through the front of the shop's 19th-century Victorian designed glass-door.

Originally, it had been Kurt's idea to have this toy caricature in his own likeness created and gave the first one as a birthday gift to Kitty as a sort of inside joke, telling her that it was so she would always have something to remember him by. As if she would ever need a memento to keep from forgetting him, especially considering how long it had taken Kitty to overcome her misguided uneasiness around him because of his appearance in the beginning of their friendship.

But, after Piotr's younger sister Illyana immediately began begging and pleading with her older brother, telling that she wanted one of the fuzzy dolls too, Kitty in the end wound up giving her birthday surprise to one very happy and excited little girl. And in the process, gave Wanda an entrepreneurial stroke of inspiration.

Originally seeing them as her own way of responding to the wildly popular Spider-Man dolls that most other stores seemed to be overstocked with, Wanda had briefly toyed with the idea of actually marketing these exclusive miniature reproductions of the love of her life as 'A-doll-that's-actually-not-another-one-of-those-annoying-Spidey-dolls-that-you-see-everywhere-else'.

But, Wanda felt that they could just as easily rival and surpass their competition in the cuteness department all on their own without the use of the slightly disdaining reference, although her opinion may have had an understandable amount of pre-bias when it came to the subject. So, she opted to stick with calling them by the less verbose and just as catchy 'Bamf!', which Kitty had originally nicknamed the first one that had been given to her by Kurt.

"So, how're things hangin' with my favorite sis?" Kurt now asked, as soon as he and the others barely heard the door-chime jingle over The Datsun's Blacken My Thumb currently blaring in there, and saw Rogue enter.

"Well, things're still hangin' right-side-up from this end. So, Ah guess that's a good sign, 'little bro'." Rogue smiled, playfully referring to Kurt's habit of hanging from things upside down with his tail, such as one of the light fixtures in the shop that he currently dangling from. That, and his other habit of constantly referencing their common familial ties.

Although she had at first been reluctant to embrace, or even acknowledge any such bond with her adoptive brother, Rogue quickly came to see Kurt as the single shining grace in her otherwise ridiculously dysfunctional family. All of this, in spite of the fact that Rogue's past treatment of Kurt had at times actually given him a few reasons to not be so accepting of her after all.

"So, what do you think of their new album?" Wanda now asked, as Rogue approached the register counter that Wanda was seated behind and Interpol's The Heinrich Maneuver came on, with Wanda remembering that they were one of Rogue's fav bands.

"Ah like it. But not as much as their last one." Rogue replied, sitting her bookbag down on the floor behind the counter and hopped up to take a seat on its edge.

Meanwhile, Wanda looked back down and continued to half-interestedly thumb through a magazine, while Kurt slowly swung to and fro next to her and skimmed through these articles alongside his girlfriend, despite his own upside-down status at the moment.

_"Ugly."_

_"Horrible."_

_"Wouldn't wear this in a million years."_

_"Even, if I were a girl."_

With all of these statements having just been delivered one after another in rapid succession, Rogue, Kurt, and Wanda's attention was turned just as quickly towards the rear of the store. Where excess merchandise was kept, and where another familiar motor-mouth who was supposed to be taking inventory, had just made these comments.

"What're you rattling on about, Pietro?" Wanda now asked of her own brother, with a fair amount of annoyance hinted at with her current tone.

"This! Just look at it." Pietro replied, appearing before them in less than a blink of an eye thanks to his own mutant powers of speed, and did so holding a leather cut-off corset out in front of him.

"What's wrong with it?" Wanda asked, thinking that perhaps there was some kind of manufacturing defect or flaw in this newly arrived item.

"Hah! What's right with it? I mean, who designs this dreary goth-crap, and then expects people to buy it anyways?" Pietro asked, moving the garment up and down in a scrolling motion in front of him for extra emphasis.

"**Ahem**!" Wanda replied, clearing her throat with a loud, forceful emphasis of her own, and staring at her brother with an equally as intense gaze.

Mainly, from the fact that Pietro had been talking to the Scarlet Rune's principal clothing designer this entire time. And who seemed to have found little humor in his rather scathing critique, judging from the way that Wanda's face had tightly clenched itself into a blatantly disapproving expression.

"Oh, yeah." Pietro rolled his eyes and semi-muttered aloud, at realizing the powder keg that he was on the verge of setting off that was his sister's sometimes volatile temper, "Still, you should let me handle the fashion concepts from now on."

"Fine! Go start your own business, and you can sell whatever the hell you want in it!" Wanda said, or rather shouted, back at Pietro, "Or better yet, if my 'ugly designs' bother you that much, you can always go back to your old cross-town courier job."

With this last verbal exchange Wanda drew no further comment Pietro, as he turned and headed back to the rear store-room to finish doing inventory, merely sauntering back there instead of tearing off with his usually fleet-footed pacing. Which, was in all likelihood due to his sister having reminded Pietro of his most-recent former employer, and how things had neither worked out, nor ended very well there.

Normally, if it hadn't been for her brother's antagonizing remarks about the style of design for her clothing, Wanda would never have brought this up or thrown it back in his face. Particularly, since she had gone through a string of dead-end jobs herself before and after graduating from high-school. Places of employment, where she felt that she had never quite fit in, quickly found that she didn't want to be, and usually wound up quitting before the ink on her nametag had a chance to get good and dry.

It was because of these experiences that Wanda was ultimately motivated to begin thinking about what she really wanted to do with her life, and led her to consider parlaying her very unique fashion and design sensibilities into a career of some sort. Once she started getting an idea of how she wanted to do this, and came to the conclusion that she didn't want to end up stuck for the rest of her life in Bayville or at the Brotherhood Boarding House, Wanda set about trying to make her dream a reality here in the Big Apple, and was determined not to let anything get in her way.

Even, after being turned down and denied numerous times while trying to get the financing to cover the costs associated with starting up her own business, Wanda persevered and did finally manage to find a way to get her hands on the cash she needed to remodel the run-down storefront that would eventually become The Scarlet Rune.

Although, a part of her did sometimes worry about how Kurt would react if he ever learned the full details of exactly what she had done to secure that crucial piece of capital, which she had later used to open her own business?

**xxx**

After spending several hours hanging out with Kurt and Wanda at the Rune, where they and Pietro had all finished looking over some of the other new items that had just come in and that were of a more magically-inclined nature, Rogue left to head back to their home and headquarters.

Which, she and her teammates had dubbed as the 'X-House'.

Originally conceived and constructed decades prior as a row of several adjacent Manhattan brownstones built right beside one another, these town homes had recently undergone a significant amount of renovation to convert them into a single expansive home to better suit the needs of its current residents. It was a refurbishing job that had certainly not come cheaply, but was still well within the means of its new owner. And knowing that the majority of his students had aspirations to pursue a higher level of education upon graduating from Bayville High, Professor Xavier had begun preparations well in advance to find suitable accommodations for them, both with regards to their needs as college students, as well as being X-Men.

Hence, the underground training room below the X-House that served as a scaled-down version of the Danger Room, and the retractable roof that opened up to reveal an interior landing bay for the XM:V2 (Velocity-2) that served as the team's primary mode of transportation and missions.

In the end, and in spite of the substantial monetary costs to himself personally, Professor X still saw this as a wise and sound investment in all of their collective futures. Both with the purchase of this rather pricey piece of Manhattan real-estate near ESU's campus, and with another separate property over on the Lower East Side, which the seller insisted also be included as part of this package deal.

"Hey, guys." Rogue now said, as she came into the house and closed the front-door behind her. Hearing the television on in the nearby main room, she was intended her announced return to be heard by whomever else happened to be home right now.

Upon entering Rogue first saw Scott in there, who was watching TV with an undeniably grim look on his face. And while that certainly wasn't out of the ordinary for him, it was a cause for notice when Rogue saw that Kitty was also wearing a similarly pensive expression, as she sat in there with Scott and the both of them were staring across at the large high-definition screen.

"What's goin' on?" Rogue asked next, since neither had responded to her initial remark.

"You remember Miss Frost?" Kitty turned towards Rogue to inquire, "From second-period English last year?"

"Yeah, how could Ah forget." Rogue less than enthusiastically replied, an indication of the level of enmity that Rogue still felt about her time spent in Miss Frost's classroom during their senior year of high school.

"We just saw on the news that she got jumped the other night after Bayville's prom, and got beat up pretty bad." Kitty now informed her, as Rogue came over and stood beside the sofa where Kitty and Scott were seated.

From where she too could see the Tivo'd news report that Scott had originally been watching, before rushing up to Kitty's room to ask her if she had heard anything about this incident? And shocked upon learning about this, told Scott that she hadn't and came back down with him to watch the full replay herself.

"How bad is it?" Rogue now asked with an obvious tone of concern, dropping her bookbag on the floor right there.

Although she and Miss Frost had not seen eye-to-eye on most everything during her former teacher's first year at Bayville High, Rogue would never wish any harm to befall her.

"News said that she's still listed in critical condition." Scott stoically replied as he stood up from the sofa, and in the process, briefly startled a napping Lockheed who had planted himself up on the back of the sofa in between him and Kitty, "I'm going down to contact the Professor and see if they've heard anything new."

While Scott too was concerned about the well-being of this teacher from Bayville, even though Emma Frost didn't start there until the year after he and Jean had already graduated, he was far more worried about the implications of this attack. Particularly, since no suspects had as of yet been identified, nor a discernible motive determined by the police to warrant the exceptionally severe nature of this assault.

It was all of that, plus the fact that Miss Frost being a mutant had been a widely-publicized item following her arrival in Bayville. A city, where mutants' were fast on their way to becoming its majority, and right there provided, in Scott's mind at least, the most likely reason that someone would do this to her.

As Rogue came and sat down in the same spot where Scott had been just moments before, so that she too could watch the recorded newscast in full that was now being replayed for a third time, Kitty's eyes briefly trailed Scott out as he exited the room through an opposing doorway.

Where Kitty also caught glimpse of a very special item sitting on a nearby end table, which had arrived for Rogue that morning and that Kitty had almost forgotten about with everything else that had been going on.

"Oh, something came for you earlier while you were gone." Kitty now turned back to Rogue and informed her.

"Huh? What is it?" Rogue asked in response, since she hadn't been expecting anything.

"The usual." Kitty now said with a wry smirk, as she pointed over towards the small table.

Looking over in that direction, Rogue immediately saw what Kitty was talking about. And any sense of surprise that she had been feeling faded just as quickly.

"Aw, Kit. You shouldn't have." Rogue sarcastically remarked, as she sat with the side of her head cocked over and resting up against the palm of her hand.

"I didn't. But, I think I have a pretty good idea who did." Kitty ribbingly replied, as that part of the news report talking about Miss Frost came to an end, gaining Rogue's full attention back and saw her friend's demeanor suddenly turn more serious.

"You'd think he'd get the hint by now!" Rogue strongly replied, as she stood up to walk over there, and once again caused Lockheed to momentarily raise his head up from all of the

commotion.

"I think its sweet." Kitty remarked, her grin growing ever larger by the second, as she watched Rogue skeptically pick up the bouquet of roses laying there

"And Ah think it's borderline-stalkin'." Rogue replied, after carefully inspecting this floral arrangement enwrapped in thin off-green tissue paper for an accompanying card.

And just as expected, the complementing Forget-Me-Not had been addressed to Rogue, signed:

_From:_

_Your secret admirer, Cheré..._

As if the identity of her 'secret admirer' couldn't easily be ascertained from that simple clue. And who had also been sending a bouquet to Rogue on average once per week, and had did so regularly for the last several weeks now.

"Ah don't know who he thinks he's foolin', but it ain't gonna work!" Rogue huffed indignantly, as she tossed the bouquet back down onto the small table's glossy wooden top.

Rogue then stood there in silence with her arms folded over in front of her, staring down at the floral arrangement before her almost disdainfully. Her anger partially stemmed from the fact that, when she had confronted Remy about the previous bouquets that had been delivered to her, he acted as though he had absoutely no idea what she was talking about? Which, only served to further infuriate Rogue even more.

But despite all of her protests and seeming objections to this romantic gesture, Kitty noticed that Rogue still took the bouquet with her as she came back over to pick up her bookbag, and then headed upstairs.

Once up there, Rogue went to place these flowers in a special maroon-hued vase that sat atop her dresser in her room. She swapped them out in place of those roses already there, which she had received just last week, but were now beginning to wilt a little.

But, what Rogue couldn't figure out for the life of her was why? Why, she would continue to allow herself to be slowly taken in by Remy, when she knew full well how he operated?

As Rogue finished tending to this floral rearrangement on top of her dresser, she paused for a moment and opened up one of the drawers below. And staring right back up at her from inside was the answer.

Picking up that familiar Queen of Hearts playing card, Rogue knew precisely why she acted the way that she did when it came to the Cajun, even though it was so atypical when compared to her normal behavior. A part of her secretly and honestly hoped, longed, for Remy to be sincere in his professions of love and affection for her. He had such a way with words, that it would be hard for any gal to not get bowled over by them.

And that was precisely the point.

Ever since she had first met him, Remy's almost innate ability to charm Rogue out of her shoes had allowed him to easily bypass her more than formidable emotional defenses time and again. Almost, as if he had some kind of hold over her?

And given the ways in which he had used that fact to manipulate her to his advantage, Rogue felt that she would be a fool to just blindly ignore their past history. That as beguiling (and yes, even seductively attractive) as Remy could be, Rogue also knew that there was always something more going on with him just below the surface. Some other, ulterior motive or new angle for him to explore to its maximum benefit.

It was like dealing with a compulsive gambler, and not for those reasons plainly obvious. She saw him as a person who could never be satisfied with having what he had, but only felt any real thrill or enjoyment out of life by chancing and daring himself to lose it all. And as someone who not only couldn't, but didn't, want to quit.

The reason that Rogue felt so emphatically sure about her assumptions pertaining to Remy, was that she had seen some of these same personality traits in someone else.

Her mother.

And while Rogue was sure that Mystique on some level truly did love her, she had no intentions of ever putting herself in a position to be hurt like that by another person again! Just the very thought of going through that kind of heartache and disappointment for a second time around was a prospect beyond unbearable for her.

That was why Rogue went and pulled a rather sizable textbook from out of her bookbag, and threw herself over onto the top of her bed. Deciding that her time could be better spent on activities other than dwelling on these plights of the heart and mind, Rogue instead sprawled out with her book in hand and tried to get as comfortable as possible. So that she could go over the current reading assignment for her Psychology class, which she and the rest of her new study group would be further reviewing together tonight.

As ironic as that might seem.

**xxx**

Later on that evening Rogue was once again out and about on the town, this time on her way to meet up with her study partners at the apartment of their psychology professor's new teaching assistant. Who tutored additionally on the side, while working to complete her own graduate studies degree.

Her apartment itself was also located near ESU, but over on a side of campus that was wholly opposite from where the X-House was situated, but still making it relatively short walking distance for Rogue.

Prior to leaving though, Rogue had undergone something of a slight wardrobe revision and reversion. Because of the quite noticeable cooling outside that came as daylight gave way to night, Rogue was now decked out in one of her heavier green and black striped tops with matching arm warmers, a pair of black form-hugging pants, her customary black biker boots, and was wearing lipstick of a darker plum shade.

Hurrying down this sparsely crowded sidewalk one block away from a popular university hangout, Rogue soon spotted the six-story building where her new tutor lived. And, it was where Rogue had apparently been very much expected, as evidenced by the reception that she received when she finally made it up to the front door to this fourth-floor apartment and it opened.

"Well, we were starting to wonder whether you were going to join us tonight or not?" A tall and attractive blonde wearing a very casual, aqua and pink-striped long sleeve blouse and jeans smirkingly remarked, appearing at the doorway with an eyebrow raised and a small amount of admonishment in her tone at Rogue's tardiness.

"Sorry, Carol. Ah...uh, got caught up in the middle of somethin' and couldn't help it." Rogue looked up and somewhat sheepishly replied, as they stood in the doorway facing one another. Mainly, because Rogue's delay had actually been due to her accidentally falling asleep earlier while trying to catch up on her studying.

"Don't worry about it, I've been there myself. Liz, Marcy, and MJ are all already inside discussing next week's material." Carol Danvers nonetheless warmly welcomed Rogue into her home, as the older woman motioned for this last-minute arrival to come in and join them.

Rogue had been expecting more of a tongue-lashing from Carol for being so 'not' on time, especially given her military background that she had heard about. But, nothing more was made of the matter, which was far less than Rogue knew she would've received had this been Scott or the Professor.

Proceeding on into Carol's moderately-sized living room, Rogue went and took a seat at the edge of an unoccupied armchair. She then brought out the few notes and questions that she had managed to scribble down before falling asleep, while shrugging off the embarrassing glances being directed at her from the rest of the more punctual members of this group.

While Rogue wanted to assume that their curious looks were most likely the result of her making such a fashionably-late appearance, a part of her couldn't help but wonder if their silent glares weren't because of another reason? The fact that she was a mutant was hardly a secret around campus, thanks to all of the press that she and the rest of the X-Men had received over the last couple of years here and in Bayville. And as a result each of them had, at one time or another, been on the receiving end of an anti-mutant rant from some Friends of Humanity idiot who wanted to see them all banned from ESU outright. Or, had been the object of a more subtle off-hand comment that was whispered just within earshot from another seemingly open-minded fellow classmate, which often hurt alot more.

It was one of the reasons that Rogue and the rest of their small circle rarely went out, even into the most casual of social settings, without the accompaniment of at least one other. It wasn't out of fear for their safety, but rather from not wanting to feel like the odd-man out. Or in their case, the odd-mutant out.

Which is exactly how Rogue was feeling at the moment, justified or not, in this room full of complete strangers. Uneasy and unsure of how they felt about being so close to 'one of those weird people with freaky powers'?

"Okay, we were talking about Freud's early psychoanalytical theories, and how they compared and conflicted with later, more feminist schools of thought." Carol said, resuming the discussion that had been going on before Rogue's arrival, as she came in and took a seat on her sofa, rejoining this semi-ring that the rest of the group had formed in the other seats and on the carpeted floor in there around her.

And in the process interrupted Rogue's assumptive psychoanalysis of her peers, which she had been subconsciously conducting.

**xxx**

A little over an hour later, the group's study session broke for the night. Partly because they had covered most everything they had planned to discuss, but mainly because Carol quickly wrapped things up after receiving a brief, but strange, phone call.

After wishing each other a good night, the three girls' (whom Rogue had quickly discovered after getting to know them were nothing like she had thought at first) headed off in the general direction towards the ESU dorm complex. Meanwhile, Rogue headed back in the opposite direction for the X-House, all by herself.

Although, she wasn't quite alone as she thought.

Unknown to her, Rogue's every move was being closely and constantly monitored from afar by a very interested party, who was currently doing so from the surrounding shadows of this virtually abandoned block. And, who would continue to do so if that's what it took to guarantee Rogue's happiness.

No matter what...

**xxx**

Next chapter: **20th Century Boy**!


	12. Asking Me Lies

Looking For A New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**xxx**

Chapter 12- Asking Me Lies

-_The Xavier Institute_

_Bayville, New York_

"_--__**damn sonuvabitch's gone too far this time**_"

For the man known as Logan, this morning has obviously not had the best of starts. However, this current obscenity-laced tirade that resulted in the breaking of a coffee mug (Logan's favorite actually) had nothing to do with a recent losing night of poker, but rather could be attributed to the report that the man in question had just seen on one of the morning television news shows.

"Sorry, Charles." Logan now said in response to the none-too-subtle telepathic reminder that he had just received from Professor Xavier, asking him to please try and calm himself. And, for him to remember that there were students' present there in the kitchen with them.

Logan then stood up from the breakfast table, wiping what remained of the coffee that he had just spit out from his lower lip and chin, and continued over towards the small TV in there. He wanted to turn the volume up as the morning's top story was now being repeated, just so that he could listen closely to every single word from the show's anchor-host and make sure that his enhanced hearing hadn't misheard anything that she had said.

"_...surprise announcement at this morning's press-conference from Avenger's Mansion, where current team chairperson Janet Van Dyne introduced their newest member to the public. _

_Who, turned out to be none other than the legendary World War II hero Captain America!_

_When asked how a man, who was reported as killed in action more than sixty years ago could still be alive and appearing to be as young now as he was in those archival war-time newsreels, it was revealed that he had been unexpectedly discovered in an Arctic region near the coastline of Iceland. Which is where he been left frozen in a natural state of suspended animation since the--"_

"Bull--" Logan was just about to say in response to what he was hearing, when he was quickly cut-off by another of Professor Xavier's telepathic nudges.

Professor Xavier then asked Paige, Doreen, and Laura to go ahead and head down to the dining hall to join the other students, who were already gathering in there and where breakfast would be served shortly. Leaving just him, Logan, Hank, and Ororo behind in the kitchen.

"From what you had told me previously, you and this Captain America were very close partners, and friends. I would have thought you overjoyed at hearing the news of his miraculous return?" Professor Xavier said to Logan, who had come back over to his seat.

"I sure as hell would be, if that really was him. But that guy on TV, that ain't Steve Rogers. They're just usin' his memory and some imposter to jerk the public around to get some more support for this new Avengers project, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let Fury and his little super-squad get away with it!!" Logan angrily responded, while sitting and staring at the television screen so intensely that he could've burned a hole right through it.

And his last statement now had Professor Xavier, Ororo, and Hank each envisioning to varying degrees Logan on the news causing a VERY public and violent disturbance out on the front lawn of the recently-formed Avenger's home and headquarters. But right at that moment, Logan paused all movement and turned his attention towards a nearby window when his heightened sense of hearing suddenly detected the sound of approaching helicopters off in the distance.

"Well, well. Looks like X-Mas came early for somebody this year!" Logan sprang back up from his chair and said with, what was for him, a sickeningly huge smile.

It was then followed by a more familiar 'Snikt!' sound that came with the emergence of three razor-sharp adamantium claws, as they unsheathed themselves from out of each of Logan's hands.

And was usually a good indicator that all hell was about to break loose.

As Logan quickly exited the kitchen and headed towards the front door to properly 'welcome' their guests, those left behind finished listening to the remainder of the morning news being replayed in there. Which, was far more troubling for them to hear again.

_"...Avenger's press conference this morning, ironically enough, comes on the heels of Governor Creed following through on his election day promise to provide a counter to the state's rapidly expanding super-powered population. Issuing a state executive order creating a new Sentinel civil defense force with the purpose of bolstering a depleted National Guard, the governor further elaborated on the reasoning behind this somewhat controversial decision:_

_'While our brave men and women are being utilized in a larger role to aid in this nation's global war on terror, the citizens' of this great state can rest-assured that steps have been taken to equally protect them from the spectre of domestic mutant terrorism that has reared its ugly head here back at home. Mutant anarchy, such as that exhibited in Bayville last year following the Matthew's verdict, will not be tolerated! Never again will we sit idly by and be forced to live in fear of being subjected to such lawlessness from these mutant vigilantes, or of a Federal government so unprepared to handle these basic threats to our safety...'"_

After hearing these words from Graydon Creed again for, what seemed like, the hundredth time since they were first spoken just a few days ago, Ororo abruptly stood up and was the next to leave the kitchen.

In part, because she could feel herself growing angrier by the second at Creed's dubious attempts to broadly paint all of mutantkind as some kind of menace to society for his own self-serving motives. And she didn't want to wind up inadvertently causing a major weather event due to her current emotional state. But, it really had just as much to do with the fact that Ororo knew on some level that there was a degree of justification for the public to fear mutants, for the very reasons that the staunchly anti-mutant governor had just listed.

And that it was her own nephew, along with the rest of the Morlocks, who were the principal cause of and whom bore a more than fair share of the responsibility for helping to create this entire mess. A fact, which both pained and shamed Ororo to have to admit.

**xxx**

Meanwhile, Logan had made his way out through the Institute's front doors and now ardently strode across its sizable front lawn towards the SHIELD personnel transport craft that was landing just a few dozen yards ahead of him. And while the sight of 'the Wolverine' heading towards them at a near charging pace with all claws extended would've been enough to unnerve even the most hardened of soldiers, Colonel Nicholas Fury didn't seem to be fazed in the least by it as he stepped off of the descending chopper.

Which shouldn't have been a surprise, since this survivor of wars and countless other engagements all around the world over the last several decades had come here expecting as much. And it was why Fury had decided that it would be better for him to pay his old friend a visit and for them do this out in the open here at Xavier's, rather than wait and give Logan enough time to jump on the first thing smoking aimed at his SHIELD helicarrier.

"I got a bone to pick with you, Fury. So you'll excuse me if we skip the formalities, and jump straight to me carvin' ya out a new asshole!!" Logan said in a low-pitched growl, all the while drawing ever closer to the transport helicopter.

"If I had a dime for every time I heard that, I--'' Fury was coolly saying, when he was quickly cut off.

"--still wouldn't have enough to buy your way outta the ton o' hurt I'm fixing to lay down on ya!" Logan emphatically finished for him.

"Alright, at least give me a chance to explain first. Then we can settle this the hard way, if ya still want?" Fury asked Logan in response, as they met in the clearing not too far away from the helicopter.

Logan stood there for a moment in silence with less than a foot between him and Fury, showing tremendous restraint as he appeared to be seriously weighing his options.

"Fine. But, you got no idea how damn convincing these next words outta your mouth to me better be!" Logan warned, his anger still very much apparent, as he held one set of his claws up and pointed them mere inches away from Fury's face, before retracting them back into his right hand.

"I assume you saw the press conference this morning?" Fury said, albeit as more of a rhetorical conversation starter, as he pulled two cigars from out of the interior pocket of his SHIELD logo-emblazoned leather jacket. He then handed one of the cigars to Logan and struck a match to light the both of them with.

"You're damn-straight! If you think for one minute I'm gonna let you get away with havin' some joker dress up and pretend to be Steve, just so you can parade him around in front of TV cameras for your new super-team, then you not only lost half of your eyesight, you lost what little mind you got left Nick!!" Logan took the cigar, and then got right to the point and remarked.

"It's not an imposter, Logan. That really is Captain America...er, Steve Rogers." Fury promptly revealed.

"He's movin' around pretty good for a guy who was terminal before he got put on ice. What, you just all of a sudden came up with a miracle cure for him?" Logam sarcastically queried.

But Nick Fury didn't respond, at least not immediately. Instead, he took a deep puff from his cigar and paused, before continuing with his explanation.

"Logan, there's something you need to know. That guy we've had in cryo-stasis, it's Captain America. But, it never was Steve in there." Fury revealed to Logan, and got the next reaction that he had been expecting from him.

"**What the HELL do ya mean, it was never Steve in there**!!!" Logan angrily yelled, loud enough that he could be heard all of the way back inside of the mansion.

"As best as I've been able to figure out, he was just one in a long list of guys who went through the Rebirth process. And, managed to last long enough to stand in as a limited replacement for Cap at the end of World War II." Fury further explained, but was only raising more questions than he was answering for Logan.

"Replacement? Nick, you're not makin' a damn bit of sense!" Logan said, who by now was growing more and more flustered by the minute at what he was hearing.

"You really don't remember, do you? Our last mission together, when we finally raided Kleiser's strong-hold? That rocket explodin' out over sea with Rogers on it..." Fury said, once again for rhetorical effect since he already new the answer, which Logan's lack of response only helped to confirm, "After they thought he'd been killed, there were several attempts to replicate the process that originally created Captain America. But, since the guy responsible for inventing the super-soldier process in the first place had been killed right after putting Steve through it, his successors were forced to work from whatever notes of his that they'd been able to cobble together, and it showed. The reconstituted serum formula proved unstable, and when exposed to the vitalization rays inside of the Rebirth chamber, it caused a rapid and massive cellular breakdown in test subjects. But, you already know about all o' that."

"No, I feel like I know less and less by the damn minute!" Logan said, now frustrated more than anything, "We known each other, what, how many years now? How could keep somethin' like this from me?"

"Trust me Logan, it wasn't easy for me. But, with the way you've been holdin' on so damn hard to those implanted memories of you and Cap in action together at the end, it was like you'd at least gotten some sorta closure from it all. And I didn't know how to break the truth to you, so I didn't." Fury replied with a trail of smoke from his lips to accompany his words, "Besides, it's not like I ever imagined in a million years that Rogers'd come back from the dead like this."

"It was still downright shitty of you to do." Logan pointed out, his previously seething anger now morphing into a steely realization of the situation.

"Makin' the tough and shitty decisions is pretty much where I live, day in and day out Logan." Fury responded.

"Yeah, and that's got me wonderin' now about what the hell else you been holdin' out on me with? For my own good, of course." Logan scornfully said, speculating on what other secrets were being kept from him.

And on that note, Colonel Fury remained conspicuously silent. Instead he made a brief and simple hand gesture, and was immediately given a forest green folder from one of his agents' standing silently close by.

"Here, consider this a peace offerin'. My way of sayin' I'm sorry." Fury said, as he took the folder and then handed it to Logan. Which, Logan promptly opened up.

Inside of this dossier were several pages of field reports submitted directly to Fury by his SHIELD agents' that were operating from within the tiny island nation of Madripoor. It documented their findings regarding a ring of criminal activity in the broader Pacific region, which they had tracked back to Madripoor as the chief originating point.

As Logan skimmed through page after page detailing the progress of their investigation as they slowly infiltrated their way into this shadowy organization, he was just about to give the folder back to Fury and ask him why the hell he was wasting his time with this, when a surveillance photo paper-clipped to one of the subsequent pages caught his attention.

And caused his jaw to drop for the second time this morning.

"Madame Hydra..." Logan said with something of a gasp at his instant recognition of this individual in the picture, despite the her now longer hair and the dark-colored shades that she was wearing.

"Figured you'd find that of interest. It just came across my desk this morning." Fury replied.

"What, she also managed to miraculously come back from the dead? I was there with you when she went down in flames with that HYDRA mothership." Logan suspiciously remarked while continuing to study the photo, "Or, you gonna try and convince me my memories're playin' tricks on me there too?"

"Wouldn't dream of it. But, you do raise an interesting point, about memories 'n all. Seems I remember 'someone' tellin' me that X-23 had died in that crash too? Guess that same someone must've just been mistaken?" Fury came over close to Logan again and reminded him, staring eye to eyes with him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Logan gruffly postured.

"Now who's playin' games with who?" Fury smirkingly asked his old friend, "I've known about her living here for a while now."

"I'm surprised you didn't send your boys' in here to try and get her." Logan replied.

"Why would I do that? She's right where I want her to be." Fury said, his smile still present, "Turn that page, I think there's some more in there that you'll want to see."

Which Logan did, and was greeted by yet another high-quality digital still of a familiar face in this file folder.

"Madame Hydra, who now goes under the new alias of Viper since hooking herself up with an outfit calling itself the Serpent Society, went out and got herself some top underworld muscle to back her up." Fury continued, "The fella in that picture, who we believe she helped to bust outta prison recently and's been working as her private bodyguard and overseein' their entire smuggling operation, amongst other things, has been positively ID'd as Keniuchio Harada. But you probably know him better as--"

"The Silver Samurai!" Logan finished for him, as he grimly read through the remaining documents, and contemplated the inevitable course of action about to arise from what he'd just learned.

"I kinda figured you'd recognize him." Fury now said, as Logan handed him the dossier folder back, "Way I understand it, you two have something of a history together. Says in there he's the brother of Mariko Yashida, who was at one-time a resident of this Institute, and an old girlfriend of yours."

"Girlfriend? 'fraid you got your wires a bit crossed there, Nicky. Things aren't quite like that between us." Logan replied, and was the one who was smirking now for a couple of reasons.

"Not according to a report filed from our operatives in Tokyo a few months back. In it, you and Ms. Yashida were observed leaving the scene of a disturbance at a local bar together, and in rather cozy fashion. A disturbance, which I'm sure you had a healthy hand in startin'." Fury said.

"Hate to break it to you, but it sounds like you guys got fed some bad intel all around about that whole incident. But comin' from one o' your agents, I'm sure you've gotten more than used to that by now?" Logan said with an even larger smile, but one that would quickly fade, "Tell me, why'd you come and lay all of this on me to run off and take care of, now of all times. Right now, I gotta house full of kids back there wonderin' whether their teacher's gonna live to see another day? And wonderin' the same thing about themselves, worried that Sentinels're about to come bustin' through our front door."

"I haven't told you to run off and do anything. All I did was pass along some info I thought you'd want to know about." Fury responded.

"C'mon, you knew exactly what you were doing. Just like you knew I'd come lookin' for you when I found out about Cap, you knew she'd head straight for Madame Hydra once she heard about this. And, that I'd be along for the ride to watch her back." Logan said with a nod directed back over his right shoulder, gesturing towards one of the many large and aged trees that surrounded the Institute.

Where, Logan was well aware that Laura had been perched up on one of its branches and eavesdropping on their entire conversation, after secretly following him outside. Just so she could keep an eye on things, and make sure that Logan was okay.

"Somethin' else just occurred to me. You need us to do your dirty work for you in this case, since your hands're tied up in all kindsa political and jurisdiction red-tape when it comes to you officially makin' any major moves in Madripoor. Else, you woulda already sent one of your SHIELD special-ops squads in on this." Logan perceptively pointed out, "Or better yet, turn loose that new super-team of yours over there that you've had such a hard-on all these years to have workin' for you."

"And here I thought all this time it was those little blue pills I been takin' doin' that for me?" Fury sarcastically replied to Logan's remark.

Then a moment of silence and seriousness crept in between the pair.

"Logan, I need to know if the two of you are in or out on this job, before I start callin' up some o' my less preferable contingency options?" Fury asked point-blank, acknowledging that Logan had been correct in his assertions, "Although, I'm pretty sure I know what one of your answers is gonna be, despite what you might say."

Fury' comment was followed by another silent pause, as Logan appeared to be seriously considering his ultimate response.

"Give us five minutes to get our gear together, and we'll be airborne out of here with you." Logan told Fury, albeit with some internally held reservations about this.

"I'll make arrangements en route for your transport into Madripoor. It'll be ready to depart as soon as the two of you are in place." Fury said, as he turned around and made a gesture to another of his agents, who immediately opened a communication line via the advanced technology built into his equipment to relay the Director's instructions.

"Fine. But we're making a pit stop along the way." Logan now told Fury.

"Okay, where at?" Fury curiously asked.

"Wherever an old friend of mine I ain't seen in over sixty years is. We got us quite a bit of catchin' up to do." Logan clarified, wearing a smile now that was, for the first time this morning, the result of him feeling genuinely happy for a change.

**xxx**

_A/N: Logan and Laura's adventure to be continued in a new upcoming fic entitled **Ride**..._

Next chapter: **The Queen is Dead**...**The Queen is Dead**...**The Queen is Dead**...


	13. The Queen is Dead, Shattered Dreams

Looking for a New Connection

Written by Darkstorm5000

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution, the X-Men, and other related characters in their various incarnations are the property of Marvel Entertainment Group and Film Roman Productions, are used without permission and not for profit.

**xxx**

Chapter 13- The Queen is Dead

_-Bayville Medical Center_

With the summer vacation break only a few weeks away, a growing sense of excitement had been steadily working its way through the student body at Bayville High. For those students who also resided at the Xavier Institute, the prospect of getting to return home to see family and friends over this extended break for the first time in months was one that they very much anticipated. And was a joyous sentiment shared equally by some of their fellow housemates, who themselves may not necessarily have a 'home' to go back to, but were nonetheless looking forward to days spent lounging out in the sun poolside or involved in other equally non-vigorous activities.

Even for faculty-members, both at Bayville High and at the Xavier Institute, the expectation of having a bit more free-time to themselves to rest and recuperate from yet another trying school year was one that they too eagerly anticipated. None more so than one of Bayville High's teachers, for whom the end of the school year had brought with it a most unpleasant encounter.

"I think she's down this way."

For a small group of Emma Frost's students, their own current anxiety had taken on a greater and more far-reaching complexity in the form of concern for their teacher. Weeks after a severe attack that had left Miss Frost in very critical condition, they were just now being allowed the opportunity to visit with her. And, held the distinction of being her first students' to see her since her doctor cleared it, as these teenaged individuals now appeared in the doorway to her hospital room.

Even though some amongst their number had been keeping silent vigil over Miss Frost from afar, in the event that whatever was behind this should decide to return.

"Some fancy digs that they got you set up in here." Jubilee, who was the first to enter Miss Frost's room, was also the first to light-heartedly say as she looked all around said hospital room.

"I don't believe that I would describe my current accommodations quite that way. And, hello Jubilation." Miss Frost replied, doing so in that ever-present formal tone of hers, which all of her students had grown well-accustomed to by now.

As this small group of her students' entered her room one by one, Miss Frost struggled through her various injuries to re-fasten her robe for modesty's sake, and then to retrieve her eyeglasses from off of the nearby nightstand next to her bed.

"How...are you feeling?" Lynn Meikle, who was one of several non-mutants intermingled within this group, nervously inquired as all of Miss Frost's students surveyed her current physical state.

Despite the tremendous and life-threatening injuries that she had sustained, most of the bruising and swelling had by now subsided with only a few hints remaining on her body to mark the blunt-force trauma that had been inflicted upon her, the most prominent of those being a cast wrapped around her left arm.

"Better." Miss Frost first paused, then replied. The tone of this single-word response from her should have been something of an indication that, while her physical wounds were well on their way to fully healing, the indelible emotional scarring that she had experienced from this incident was another matter altogether.

"We just wanted to bring you a few things to help cheer you up while you're stuck in here." Paige Guthrie said next, as the principal organizer behind this visit presented an oversized get-well card to Miss Frost, which she had made sure had been signed by all of their classmates before bringing it with them.

"And, we thought you might like having these in here to keep you company too." Lorna Dane now told her teacher, as she and Clarice Ferguson took the arrangement of assorted white roses, tulips and other flowers that they had brought with them, and cleared a place for the transparent-green glass vase holding them on the small nightstand beside her bed.

"I started to bring you a couple of my favorite novels too, to help you pass the time. But I wasn't sure if you were into Johnny Burnes or not?" Angelica Jones happily remarked, referring to the rather risqué author of whom she had become an avid reader.

"The flowers and card are more than enough. And very thoughtful, thank you." Miss Frost told them all, momentarily returning a partial-smile as a sign of her appreciation.

"Mostly I...we, wanted you to know how much we've missed you."

Which, was perhaps the most poignant thing that had been said thus far to Miss Frost during her students' visit this evening. Probably, because it had been offered to her from the most unlikely of sources, Monet St. Croix. Who herself had been quietly standing to the rear of this group gathered in there this entire time, and who now had unwittingly let her guard down just enough that Miss Frost could psychically sense through Monet's mental barriers the swell of genuine emotion behind her sentiments.

"If you would all pardon my interrupting, but I believe that visiting hours will be coming to an end shortly. And I would like an opportunity to speak with Miss Frost for a moment before that time arrives." Another older, and substantially more masculine voice requested, as everyone looked over towards the door to now see Professor Charles Xavier sitting there.

"Sure, Professor. We can always come back to bug Miss Frost and wear-out our welcome another day." Jubilee, who by now had gone and taken a seat down on the right side of Miss Frost's sizable hospital bed and made herself comfortable smirkingly replied, as she got up to begin exiting the room with her fellow classmates.

And within just a few moments the hospital room had been cleared out, save for the patient to whom the room had been assigned and her concerned colleague.

"I am to assume, then, that your reason for coming here wasn't to offer to read to me selections from the trashy romance novel of my choice?" Emma now sarcastically posed, her tone quickly taking on a surprisingly more acrimonious resonance as she addressed the man now seated at her bedside, while her gaze had turned away and elevated back up towards the ceiling–mounted television once her students had departed.

"Fortunately, no." Charles replied with a smile and a bit of good-humored inflection thrown in, "I merely wanted to personally wish you a speedy-recovery."

"From one mind-reader to another, I somehow have a feeling that there's more to it than just that." Emma stated, gingerly repositioning herself in her hospital bed, so as to better face the man that she was now conversing with. Who himself responded with a smirking expression to confirm that she was correct in this last assumption of hers.

"Well, I also wanted to see if there were any additional details from the night of your attack that you could provide, to aid us in better identifying your assailant or assailants." Charles sank back a little in his wheelchair and then asked her.

"I'm sorry, but I've already told the police everything that I was able to recall." Emma replied. Which, hadn't been very much with regard to what had happened.

Just recollections of her coming home late that night, after having chaperoned the end of year semi-formal dance at Bayville High. Of her walking into her darkened house, and before she even had a chance to flip on a light switch, an instant searing pain that she felt after being hit from behind. Followed by the sensation of being tossed about and slammed around like a rag doll, before losing consciousness and waking up several days later here in the hospital.

"I understand. But, perhaps there is something that you've overlooked, some small piece of critical information. If you would allow me to--" Charles further postulated, but was quickly cutoff.

"Allow you, to what? Go traipsing about through my mind like some amateur, telepathic Sherlock Holmes on a search for clues to help solve the big mystery? I don't think so!" Emma strongly responded, as a swell of anger seemed to spring up and over her.

"It just seems highly unusual that a psychic of your caliber wouldn't have picked up the presence of your attacker, sensed that you were in danger and--" Charles was starting to say, his own mind running through several theories as to how this woman before him could have been caught so unawares, but was once again interrupted before he could finish.

"And...that I should have then been able to stop whoever, or whatever, that thing was with a mere thought, just like you? Before it put me through several walls of my home, then through a plate-glass window and left me for dead on my front lawn? **I'm sorry Charles, but I'm not you or one of your damned X-Men!**" Emma verbally spat back at him, with a rare display of raw emotion that Charles both heard and felt from her through his own formidable psychic defenses, "I thought that I had made myself quite clear with you on that point some time ago."

"Of course." Charles quickly and calmly told her, "And I certainly wasn't trying to imply that you were in any way responsible for what happened to you."

"No, I believe the blame for that can be laid solely at your feet!" Emma indignantly remarked as she sat up in her bed, her ice-blue eyes now locked dead-center onto his brown ones.

"I'm...afraid that I don't quite follow." Charles replied, a bit confused by her last comment.

"Tell me, have you ever considered that what you've been doing has only made things worse, not better?" Emma posed to him, then relaxed back into the cushioned surface behind her, "That by having your own personally-trained, mutant paramilitary strike-force running around, now out in public and without any real manner of official oversight, that you've actually helped feed into the very fear of mutants that you claim to want to eliminate?"

To which, Charles Xavier didn't immediately respond.

Instead, he silently sat there and earnestly took in these honest criticisms, having often pondered these very same arguments to himself in his own moments of quiet self-introspection and reassessment.

"When you first presented me with the idea of coming here to teach, to be able to do what I love and not have to hide the fact that I am a mutant while doing so, I welcomed it as an opportunity to make a real difference. Even, in the face of such opposition to my being here." Emma continued venting, albeit now a bit more calmly, saying aloud some of the things that had been on her mind for quite a while now, "But after everything that's happened, from the accusations of worried parents' concerned with the radical ideological rubbish that they assumed I must be filling their children's' heads with, to the constant subtle and not-so-subtle harassments, and now an attempt on my life that I can add to that rather stellar list, I've at last gotten their message loud and clear."

"And all I want to do now is gladly get as far away from this place as possible. As soon as possible."

Emma then turned away from Charles to face towards the window of her hospital room, closing her tired eyes and allowing this latest round of pain-killers being delivered to her intravenously to take effect. Leaving her visitor alone for a few brief moments with just his thoughts, his own feelings of possible culpability, and the consistent beeping of the vital-monitoring equipment in there to keep him company. Until, he too finally turned around and away to make his departure.

**xxx**

Nearly twenty-fours later, a solid black SUV with deeply-tinted windows unexpectedly entered the estate grounds of the Xavier Institute and slowly made its way up the winding driveway towards the front of the spacious central manor within. Rolling to a complete stop a few moments later, what Everett Thomas, Jamie Madrox, and Ray Crisp (all of whom had just happened to be outside when this vehicle arrived) noticed from afar was the golden shield-shaped logo emblazoned on the vehicle's side, which featured a red lion clenching a large broadsword in its powerful jaws.

Which to be more precise was the official coat of arms belonging to the Kinross family, the commanding symbol of a proud Scottish heritage that went back several generations.

Immediately recognizing what it was, and that its appearance here meant that students from the rival Kinross Academy were now quite literally at their front doorstep, these young mutants also known as Synch, Multiple, and Berzerker respectively, prepared to simultaneously confront these uninvited guests, as well as alert their Headmaster and fellow X-Men as to what was happening.

That was, until their own Headmaster himself appeared under the mansion's huge front double-doorway to greet these individuals, who were now exiting the large luxury vehicle parked in his driveway. And, was a strong allusion to the fact that these visitors' apparently weren't as 'uninvited' as had been previously thought.

Christopher Aaronson, Manuel de la Rocha, and Marie-Ange Colbert, the young mutants also known as Bedlam, Empath, and Tarot were the first to appear, each clad in matching green and red with yellow-trim uniforms that had the Kinross Academy logo positioned distinctively up on their upper left chest. They proceeded on into the mansion alongside their Headmistress, who herself was wearing a more formal light-gray jacket and skirtsuit, as Professor Xavier led the way towards his private study.

"So Charles, do you want to tell us what the devil this is all about? Or, were ye just sittin' there waitin' for us to read your mind?" Dr. Moira Kinross asked as soon as the doors to the study had been closed and went to take a seat directly across from where Professor Xavier was seated behind his desk.

As she spoke, two of her students' took up positions beside her, with Chris leaning back up against a nearby section of hardwood paneling off to her right-flank, and Manuel promptly taking a seat, invitation or not, to her left. Meanwhile, Marie-Ange was more than content to remain in the background, as the very soft-spoken French girl went over to stand in front of a large window that overlooked the Xavier estate, playing mindful observer to the gathering now in here. It was the first time that Professor Xavier and Dr. Kinross had met face-to-face in some time, the last time having been after a calamitous brawl that had broken out at the high school between the X-Men and the Fold.

"I asked you here because I wanted to discuss a most serious matter with you and your students', involving a malicious and mysterious incident that happened a few weeks ago." Professor Xavier was starting to say, when he suddenly received a very hostile response.

"It is just as I said! The only reason that he invited us here, was so that he could toss more false incriminations at us!" Manuel loudly replied, quickly jumping to the conclusion that he had come to earlier with his two peers during their journey over here.

Chiefly, that they were about to once again be accused by Professor Xavier of instigating or participating in some manner of local delinquency.

"Ach, there'll be no tossing of anything at any of ye while I'm here! Now, please show a little respect and allow our host to at least finish." Dr. Kinross looked over and told Manuel, doing so in a both stern, yet calming tone.

"Of course. My apologies, _Baronesa_." Manuel just as quickly settled back down and regretfully replied to his Headmistress, while she turned back to face Professor Xavier and gestured for him to continue.

"As you may or may not know, I had the opportunity to visit with Miss Frost yesterday. And while her recovery is coming along exceptionally, especially with all things considered, she did make mention of the possibility that she may not be returning to teach at Bayville High next year." Professor Xavier said, as he got right to the point of why he had requested this audience with these individuals from the Kinross Academy, "I realize how close many of you are with Miss Frost, and I have already spoken to my own students' about this prospect. And, have made very clear to them my desire to not have a repeat of what happened last year following the Matthews' trial, with emotions overriding good judgment."

"So, you're saying we should sit around and do nothing? Just sit back and take it, and wait until another one of us is made an example of? I don't believe it!" Chris now shook his head and cynically replied.

"Not at all. What I am wishing, is to avoid making a bad situation unnecessarily worse. By acting rashly and exacerbating the perception to the public of us as mutant vigilantes out for justice on our own terms." Professor Xavier explained, much as he had earlier that morning when confronted by similar questions from his own students on this very same subject, with a firm realization of just how much of a potential there was for things to escalate out of control.

"As if you've had absolutely nothing to do with putting that perception into the minds' of most folks?" Dr. Kinross indignantly replied to what she saw as a rather hypocritical statement coming from this man seated across the desk from her.

Moira had initially been very much supportive of her old friend, back when Charles first began talking with her in their younger days about his plans to start a school for 'gifted youngsters' (as was how he had originally referred to young mutants) all of those years ago. But as time passed her faith in him, and particularly with his methods, had waned. So much so, that she had decided to remain in Bayville after being contacted by her former colleague for her assistance in a joint effort to help the young woman named Rogue. It was a decision on Moira Kinross' part to take a more active role in the face of what she saw as tunnel-vision by Charles Xavier, with his focus on simply training an effective group of mutant soldiers overriding some of their other needs.

That, he would've waited so long to ask her for her help (which she immediately gave without any hesitation at all despite whatever falling out that the two may have had so long ago) and had allowed Rogue to suffer all of that time with being unable to touch another living soul was in her mind unconscionable. And with his more or less writing off of The Brotherhood and neglecting of other young mutants', who were less than 'ideal' for his saintly X-Men but just as much in need of guidance, was the main motivation behind her opening her Kinross Academy and intentionally bringing in these troubled teens to fill it.

"Face it. Sometimes, if you want any kind of justice, that's what you have to do. Go out and get it for yourself." Chris folded both of his arms in front of him and made his own assertion to both Dr. Kinross and Professor Xavier regarding his outlook on what was going on. And, unwittingly wound up having the last word on the subject.

"I believe all's been said that needs to be said, Charles." Dr. Kinross abruptly said, as she immediately stood up from her chair and gestured to her students' for them to prepare to leave, "You have my word that my students' won't do anything to make this situation worse."

Her own body language, however, was broadcasting the heavy irritation that she was feeling at the sheer pomposity of having been asked to come all of the way over here, just so she could listen to Charles go on about his 'desire' for her to remember to keep her trouble-making, juvenile delinquents in line.

"I trust then that you will also inform us if you do happen to find out anything else regarding what happened, Moira?" Professor Xavier assumptively inferred, sitting back with his elbows resting atop his desk and hands arched up together.

"You can be certain that any pertinent information that we come across will be passed along to the proper authorities. And, I trust that you and yuir X-Men will do the same accordingly." Dr. Kinross sardonically replied with one last parting shot delivered back at her old acquaintance, before turning her attention back to her own three young charges with her, as they all made their departure.

**xxx**

(Bonus story)- Shattered Dreams

In the subterranean levels buried far beneath the Xavier Institute lie a number of wondrous, hidden facilities utilized by its residents. And while the Danger Room, and as a direct result the uniform utility-room, were the two areas principally used by them on a regular basis, there was one other section of this underground labyrinth that also seemed to be in frequent use. Which was also for reasons usually associated with the Danger Room living up to its name, but for others that were sometimes unrelated.

"Here a little earlier than usual tonight?" Dr. Henry McCoy, one of the Xavier Institute's instructors and its de facto chief medical administrator commented, appropriately enough, from within this underground medi-lab when he saw its exterior doors slide open. And, had a fairly good idea as to who it was that was now entering.

"Has there been any change?" Professor Xavier queried, simply offering a nod in response to Hank's remark regarding the off-routine timing of his arrival this evening, while wheeling himself over to one of the beds in there.

Moving past this furry blue man dressed in a white labcoat to whom he had just spoken to, Professor Xavier continued on towards the hospital bed where David Haller was laying. Which was where his son had been for the last several months, ever since being left in a deep comatose state.

"As you know, the monitoring equipment down here records every one of his vital signs imaginable, continuously day and night. But unfortunately, there's been no discernible change." Hank replied, as he was using a handheld device to download said readouts into.

"And, no sign of my son trying to return to me." Charles sighed, as he bowed his head a little and proceeded to gently run a single hand over David's forehead. He then used his own formidable mutant telepathic powers to try to reach out to his son, entering David's mind in the hope that he would find something, anything, to give him at least the faintest spark of hope.

But it was to no avail, as Charles drew nothing but the equivalent of a blank page from his son's mind. Just as he had received every night before, ever since David had been brought to reside here at the Institute.

"Anything?" Hank looked up from his analysis charts and optimistically asked, recognizing the sort of psychic communion that Charles was having with his son. And, was hoping himself to hear a bit promising news for a change.

"No." Charles replied as he opened his eyes, the tremendous disappointment that he was feeling obvious from his expression, " Just as you said, things are the same as they were yesterday."

"Then, unto us tomorrow comes." Hank once again commented, this time as he came over to place a sympathetic paw on this distressed father's shoulder.

Hank then took his leave from the medi-lab, to allow the Professor some time to be alone with David. And, with the endless self-recriminations that he felt with regard to his son's current condition.

Professor Xavier had believed that after Jean Grey had managed to cast out the dominant Lucas persona from his son's mind during her epic showdown with his old nemesis known as the Shadow King, that David's own personality would have been automatically restored. But, just as life seemed to generally work for them, things hadn't quite turned out as expected.

Hank's working hypothesis from that point on had been that David's mind would eventually return, perhaps once he had had a chance to fully recover from his experience of being turned into a puppet of the Shadow King. Professor Xavier however was struggling to remain confident about that prognosis, and wondered if this was perhaps a sign of things to come? That this was to be the true cost of his dream, to be left waist-deep in those fallen friends and loved ones around him unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire of his fight for a better tomorrow?

With Emma Frost having become the latest in what was apparently a growing list of those winding up as unintended collateral in his struggle to help unite a world seemingly growing more and more fractured by the day, Professor Xavier's thoughts unexpectedly drifted off to other friends and loved ones, and to his relationships with them that had also suffered as a result of his life's work. Namely, with his brief marriage to David's mother Gabrielle, and with how their divorce had wound up having such a lasting and irrevocable impact on their son. But, he also thought about his strained friendship with Dr. Moira Kinross, if friendship was the word at this point that could even be used to describe their association with one another?

Although, he had been extremely surprised when Dr. Kinross suddenly appeared back here in Bayville, offering her help in finding a means to alleviate the problems that Rogue's mutant powers were causing her. And while it had been additional assistance that he, Hank, Forge, and Dr. Reed Richards were nonetheless glad to have, it was amazing to Professor Xavier when she unexpectedly appeared at his front door. Particularly, since neither he nor Dr. Kinross had been in contact with one another in several years.

That, and the fact that she had managed to somehow arrange a remote consultation between the group with their old college professor, the now very aged and reclusive Professor Robert Windsor. Whose, own extensive and long-standing expertise in the field of genetics was what filled in the gaps to their incomplete research data, and who was the one who ultimately provided them with the necessary details with which to actually help Rogue.

Drawing himself out of this quasi-stroll down memory lane, Professor Xavier now turned his attention towards the book sitting on his lap and opened it up. It was a personal favorite of his, one that he frequently used as a lecture aid and also read and re-read himself simply for the sheer pleasure of it. Partly, because it took him back to his own childhood, of dreams of chivalrous days long since past where noble knights spent them righting wrongs and rescuing fair maidens in distress.

Now, it was one of several books that he chose to regularly read to his son David during these nightly visits. It was his way of trying to make up for all of those years that he wasn't there to do so when his son had been growing up.

And thinking, hoping, praying that one of these nights it might, just might, be the thing that would help his son find his way back home...


End file.
